Connecting Outside the Network
by escabatumrip3
Summary: FEMALE Pritchard x Adam Jensen, using a lot of stock dialogue to try to maintain the characters, nearly a novelization of the game with minor tweaks and deviations for sake of the story. Rated T, but last chapter Rated M. Trying for a good balance of plot without playing the romance too heavy handed. Feedback welcome. Will still edit, but essentially complete.
1. Prologue

Freya Pritchard woke up to the gradually increasing tone of Beethoven's 9th symphony transmitting to her auditory center. She grinned as it grew louder and then decreased in tone as her alertness level reached functional levels. The latest add-on was a welcome change from the jarring mechanical BREEP BREEP BREEP of the cheap digital clock at her bedside table. She glanced over at the plastic white alarm clock, its red boxy digits displaying 06:05. She'd had the clock since college after receiving it in a silly "Secret Santa" exchange. She had been tempted to throw it away many times, but a quick glance around her apartment made it clear that she rarely threw anything away. The Sarif company housing at Chiron was pretty generous in space and accommodations, yet somehow she'd managed to cover the floor in wires, old mobos soldered onto thin wood planks, and numerous computer and augment parts in varying stages of reconstruction and deconstruction.

Tip-toeing carefully across her room around the bed to the shower, she paused in front of the mirror. She looked awful – hair disheveled, bags under her normally intense blue eyes, a plastic antistatic strap still fastened on her right hand with the grounding wire swaying along her bare leg. Sighing, she unfastened it and tossed it back into the bedroom, running her fingers over the reddish impression left from it being pressed against her fair skin all night. She'd gotten an urgent call from David Sarif, their CEO at Sarif Industries, just as she was leaving work the previous evening.

"Pritchard! The intellicams are flickering all over the place! I think we're getting pinged again!"

Sighing, Pritchard responded through her neuro chip's internal comm line, "Hold on one moment, Mr. Sarif, I need to get back to my office…" _After all, it's MY job as the chief of cyber-security to determine whether we're getting hacked or just having an electricity fluctuation._

As she returned to the Tech Lab, all the screens were black with green lines of codes shooting through. It was a brute force attack. Somehow they'd gotten past her firewalls and were now chipping at the final security access password.

"Fuck," she cursed, dropping her grey Sarif-issued messenger bag in the doorway and pulling out her tablet.

"What's going on?" Mr. Sarif's voice echoed in her head. He was always concerned by even the slightest technical glitch. His attention to detail was admirable, though sometimes a hindrance to Pritchard. In this case, however, he was perfectly justified in his alarm. The rate at which the hackers were bombarding their security system indicated it was coming from a very powerful network.

"It's an attack, let me follow it. Nucl3arsnake is on the job."

"Whatever, Pritchard, just don't let them get through!"

"I'm working on that, Sir – they haven't gotten the password, for now," she answered, typing furiously, closing off all avenues of access including the unconventional ones. Meanwhile she started a back-trace to find the source.

"Do you think I should call in Jensen?" asked Sarif nervously.

Rolling her eyes, she shouted back, "What the fuck good is an ex-cop going to be in a purely cyber-attack? I don't need him here just for the sake of standing around looking pretty."

"Okay, I got it, any idea who these assholes are?"

The screens were starting to stutter in their onslaught – the barriers she'd activated were slowing them down. "No clue, my back-trace is running but they're well hidden – I've already traced them through a dozen different nodes around the world. It's looking like a wild goose chase right now. I've managed to slow them down but…I think I've pinned down the source of the problem. A gap in the firewall."

"I hope you're not talking about the one you custom developed that I'm paying you for to keep our research safe…"

"Don't worry, I've got a handle on it now," she said, her face flushing red with anger and embarrassment. "They aren't getting in. I just need to patch the weak spot now. It'll take a few hours but don't worry, Sir, I won't be leaving here until I finish."

"How long do you think it'll take, Pritchard? We're leaving for the Summit tomorrow to release Megan's research. We can't afford to let anything get through at this crucial time," he reminded her.

"Mr. Sarif, I really can't give you a time estimate, but I'll do my best to have it done before tomorrow morning. Pritchard out."

If Sarif defines morning as when the sun first comes up, then she kept her word – but when she plopped onto her bed still in her work clothes at 3:40am, her last thought was that the shortly arriving day would be long and unpleasant. After showering she threw on her black and orange jacket, her Sarif ID badge still attached to one of the lapels, and headed out the door. Soon she was walking into the lobby at Sarif Industries HQ. At the center of the lobby was the information desk, with space over it reaching up three stories. On each side, stretching down in huge banners, were the digitally enhanced faces of David Sarif, founder and CEO of Sarif Industries, and Hugh Darrow, the genius behind augmentation technology. The two fathers of Sarif. The floors wrap around the inside edges of the huge circular building, with Jensen's security office jutting out slightly from the third floor and Pritchard's own Tech Lab situated on the second floor. As she walked past the info desk, the young blond receptionist flagged her down.

"What is it?" asked Pritchard.

"A note from Athene, Ms. Pritchard. Sarif's worried about security after last night."

She took the yellow post-it from the receptionist and scanned the scrawled writing – Mr. Sarif wanted her to run a check on their science team's Global Positioning Locator chips. Yet another added security feature aimed at keeping their scientists safe from harm. Sighing, Pritchard thanked her and dropped her bag off in the office. She found a hair tie sitting on her desk and pulled her long brown locks up into a loose ponytail. _Crap, I didn't even pick up coffee this morning._ With that last thought, Pritchard went up a few stories to do some routine system checks, and then pushed the elevator call button to head up to Sarif's office.

When the doors opened she saw Megan Reed, their lead researcher, and Adam Jensen their chief security officer, standing in what appeared to be a tense conversation. She caught the tail end of what Megan was saying, but couldn't infer much from it as she stopped speaking the second the doors were half open.

Jensen politely acknowledged her, "Pritchard."

In a weak attempt to pleasantly diffuse the tenseness, Pritchard started, "So are we all ready for the trip?" She even offered a smile. That alone should have earned her a gold medal considering she'd been up late fixing their system and had no caffeine in her system after 2 hours of sleep. Megan seemed to be avoiding everyone's gaze, glancing instead at the plane outside on the pad. She seemed relieved when the doors opened and practically ran for the exit, "There's Faridah. I'd better hurry. See you at the helipad, Adam."

"Sure," he growled, his brooding brown eyes revealing little.

After the doors shut and they continued up towards the penthouse, Pritchard felt a knot in her stomach, "Did I...interrupt something Jensen?"

He stonily shot back at her, "You fix that firewall yet?"

_Okay, that's it_. "You don't 'fix' an entire firewall. You find the loophole and plug it," she explained, not wanting to relive the previous night. _I guess Sarif already briefed Jensen on that debacle._

"Then did you plug it?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes I did. Want to know how? Oh wait. I forgot. Ex- cop. I doubt you'd understand," she spat back at him. She immediately regretted taking that shot. She knew it was a pompous cheap shot and that she only went there because after the attack last night her ego had taken a huge hit. Her impervious firewall had been less than impervious. It had fallen apart. When she got down to fixing it, the hole she patched was a fairly large one that she should have accounted for when she first built it.

Jensen's angular brows furrowed together and the corner of his mouth tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Ex-_SWAT_. And you'd be surprised. Sarif ask to see you too?"

She was a little shocked he didn't jump at her more after what she'd said. Usually they were constantly pushing each other's buttons, but he was readily leaving that topic alone. He must have forgiven her for interrupting his discussion with Reed.

"Athene. She wants me to show her how to track our scientists' implanted locator devices. In case your security plans in Washington don't measure up."

The two of them approached Athene's desk. The demure, matronly woman looked up from her screen and smiled at them. Athene was one of those wonderful people who felt like the company grandmother. She could always tell when people were upset and knew every employee by name.

"How wonderful to see you both. Go right in, Adam. He's waiting. Now, Freya, did you bring me the specs on the trackers?"

"Of course," she said, handing her a tablet with the blue text already illuminated. "This is the newest in encrypted GPL trackers, Athene. It transmits data to our dedicated satellites every 10 feet or five seconds."

Athene graciously took the tablet from her and began scanning through, asking questions here or there. The caffeine withdrawal was starting to hit Pritchard already and she could feel a pounding headache coming on. Suddenly, the elevator locked down, as did the door to Sarif's office, and red alarm lights flooded the foyer.

"Athene, the whole system's been locked down, I need to use your computer," she said, pushing her way between Athene and the screen. _Another attack so soon? But I fixe-…plugged that hole! _Pritchard quickly logged into her account and pulled up the intellicam system. Every video feed was static. If it were really just an environmental problem, the security cameras would still be working.

"Pritchard, Sarif wants to know if you can disable the alarm sounds," Athene said gently, knowing Pritchard was already working to get the rest of the system functional.

"In a moment…" she said, when Jensen's deep voice flicked on in her head.

"Pritchard, where's Megan? She report in yet?"

She pulled up the GPL trackers on the screen and answered, "Her GPL implant shows her moving through the micro-chem labs...I think she's running!" Pritchard saw the other GPL signals clustered in one corner of the lab, a couple were moving erratically, one wasn't moving at all.

"Damn, must've been a serious equipment failure. Can you get eyes on her?" asked Jensen, a frantic tone emerging in his normally composed voice.

"I'm trying, but the intellicams aren't responding. There's interference coming from somewhere. Find out what's happening, Jensen. Hurry! I don't think this is just an environmental problem. The cameras…they look like they were physically disabled. Be ready for anything down there."

She heard a faint trickle of static in response, "Jensen? Jensen, are you there? Fuck."


	2. Back in the Saddle

Pritchard was standing in her office waiting for Jensen to finally arrive, surrounded by her familiar screens, books and innumerable post-it notes. Her stomach tightened – she'd cautioned Sarif that Jensen might not be ready to come back. It was only 6 months and more than half his body had been replaced with artificial limbs and cyber augments. He'd even been technically dead on the table for a few minutes. She was still going over everything from that day in her head. That group of terrorists had crippled their security system, waltzed in, and torched the research lab and their best team of scientists – Sevchenko, Faherty, Koss, Colvin…Megan… Not to mention torn up Jensen like a paper doll. Pritchard couldn't help but feel the preferential hiring of a single ex-cop was partly responsible. Imagine if they'd had a professional security team like Belltower or Dynacore, with at least one agent on each level. She'd even submitted a lengthy formal request to Sarif. Those terrorists wouldn't have had a chance. Her hand tightened on the tablet as she waited and watched the news playing about the newly unfolding hostage crisis at the Sarif manufacturing plant. Just another black mark on their once proud corporation. As Eliza Cassan finished summarizing the latest developments, Pritchard heard Jensen pass through the door to the Tech Lab.

"About time," she started, turning around, "What happened – you get stuck in an air duct on the way over?"

"Yeah, nice to see you too, Freya." She was surprised that he was using her first name. That was certainly a change. "Something's wrong with my retinal display. Can you fix it?" He still wore his hair with the same medium length blown-back style and kept his beard neatly trimmed down along his jawline and lips.

She paused a moment and asked, "What's the problem again?"

"The display keeps flashing, and things are kind of shaking around."

She nodded, "If it's what I think it is, yeah, I can fix it. I need to temporarily disrupt the power supply to your retinal implants to force them to reboot and sync up."

Pritchard picked up a device from her desk and steadied Jensen's head, her right hand pressing against his temple. He auto-retracted his sunglasses, which serve as a screen overlay for his visual augmentations. Without it, the lateral corners of his eyes were framed by black polymer lines which came down along the top of his cheekbones for a few inches. It was subtle but his irises had numerous golden circular apertures that normally blended in subtly with the brown of his eyes, but whenever they were adjusting they became more prominent. He also had a hexagonal imprint on his left upper forehead by the hairline, a mark of those with significant augmentations. Even David Sarif had that telltale mark. Jensen was wearing a jacket and loose pants so she couldn't appreciate the arm and leg implants, but she had read over his specs. It was ridiculous, almost criminal, how many augments they'd fitted him with. It went beyond functional and into the realm of downright weaponization of a human being without consent.

She pressed the electrical disruptor against the opposite side of his face just behind the optical implant lead. "This will sting a little," she said, holding his head tighter. He looked down and she took that to mean, "Go ahead and get it over with."

A bright blue spark was released and Jensen cringed for a second. She put her hand on his shoulder to steady him and was surprised when she couldn't feel the typically prominent shoulder bone and scapula. Instead, through his leather jacket she could feel the thick electro-active polymer units of his prosthetic arm. It was surprisingly warm and the texture tissue-like. She thought she even felt a ripple as he recoiled.

"Don't worry – your sentinel health implant will kick in soon, repairing any damage that might have caused. Your retinal display should be fine now," she said encouragingly.

"Right. We done here? Because Sarif is waiting for me at the helipad," said Jensen.

"You're welcome, and yes, I know. Radicals have broken into our manufacturing plant and taken hostages. Maybe this time you'll actually save people."

"If you've got a problem with me, Pritchard, why don't you just say it and get it over with?"

Sighing, she answered "It's not that I have a problem with you, it's just…if Sarif had actually taken my suggestion and we'd gotten a security team rather than a single guard, then maybe Megan and the others would still be alive. It's not your fault you were one against a group of terrorists. And once again, Sarif is sending in just you against a group of terrorists."

"Don't bring Megan into it. You were stuck behind a computer helplessly watching their GPL signals disappear, and that sucks, but it doesn't mean you get to play the blame game. Hindsight is 20/20. Also, I know no one wants to listen to me, but those men were not run of the mill extremists – they were some kind of highly trained special ops unit."

"That may be, but it's no secret how close you and Megan were. Come on. If she hadn't suggested hiring you, and you know how close she and Sarif were, then we would have had a full tactical team on the premises and the attackers would have been toast. Besides, you'd just resigned after that SWAT massacre down in Mexicantown. Then, like now, you probably could have used some more time off to clear your head."

"Look, Pritchard," _Oh, okay, we're back to last names again, _"I like to think I'm a good guy who would never hit a woman, but you're really testing me. There are lives on the line right now and I don't have time to defend myself to you."

"You're right, sorry. Good lu-" she started to say, but Jensen was already racing with superhuman speed out the door and back to the helipad where Faridah Malik and David Sarif were waiting for him. _Geez, the stress must be getting to me. I hadn't been planning to blow up at him like that. _Pritchard looked up at the news again, currently showing the shaky view from a helicopter circling the facility.

She activated her comm and called Sarif, "Mr. Sarif, it's Pritchard."

"What is it? We're kind of dealing with a life and death crisis right now," he responded, irritated.

"I need you to give me access to Jensen's comm channel. I can pull up the schematics and help him infiltrate the building. Better two than one, right?"

"Good idea, Pritchard, get on that! I'll let Jensen know." said Sarif happily.

After a few moments of scouring the various layers of the development, she found the duct schematic and several nice access points.

"Jensen, it's me. Pritchard. Where are you?" she asked.

Jensen's voice resonated back in her head, "On a roof overlooking the plant." Somehow, even though the signals were only being sent to her auditory cortex, she almost felt a faint vibration down her neck into her chest when she heard people's comms through her neural chip. She was still getting used to it, and Jensen's rich, baritone voice seemed to reach places other peoples' didn't. Taking a deep breath, she replied, "Good. Your point of entry should be through shipping and receiving."

"Should be, Pritchard? What the hell does that mean?" he answered angrily. Pritchard let it slide since he was in a high pressure situation, and it was his first day back.

"Well, that's the employee entrance, however the Purists are likely assembled there. If you'd like safer route, I'd suggest you check out the building's roof – there's a fenced off corner that leads to a duct that'll get you past all their patrols."

"Okay, I'll check that out. Thanks."

5 minutes later she heard the notification beep of the incoming communication. "Hey, Pritchard, I'm in – that worked like a charm. What else do you have for me?"

Smiling, Pritchard answered, "Well, Sarif wants you to procure the Typhoon schematics, and that'll be in the Factoring Labs. There's an elevator just past the assembly labs that will take you to it."

"Got it."

Pritchard started patching into the assembly lab system, but was surprised when her clearance code was rejected. She tried a few of her older ones, in case the system had reverted to a previous version, but still no good.

"Jensen, I just tried to unlock the assembly lab door but my codes aren't working – someone must have changed the protocols. You'll have to open it manually."

"I thought you had 'plugged the hole' in your firewall, how did they get in?" Jensen replied, frustrated.

"I'm on it! Don't worry, the software I gave you included some of my manual hacking techniques – you should be able to get through some of the lower level security locks. When you feel up to it, I'll give you the upgrades. I need a little comm silence while I figure this out, so Pritchard out."

_Crap, that hack from 6 months ago is still coming back to bite me in the ass. _Pritchard wracked her brain trying to figure out how they could have gotten through. Was it a mole? Did someone at Sarif give them the codes? That familiar feeling of dread was creeping back. What if there was a more serious flaw in their security? What if others had gotten through silently without tripping alarms and had a field day with their data? What if this is how they had gotten in 6 months ago?

*Beep* "Pritchard, you still there?"

"Where else would I be?" she asked, her attention still mostly focused on identifying the hole in her firewall.

"Patch me to Sarif, now," he ordered her. For a moment she was surprised Sarif wasn't already connected and keeping in communication with Jensen himself, but he was likely dealing with the public relations nightmare occurring outside the factory. After patching them through, Pritchard stayed on the line to hear what was going on.

"Adam, it's Sarif. You got the Typhoon?"

"Yeah, but you were right about there being something more behind this. Because I've also got a dead 'Purist' in here with some pretty interesting cerebral implants."

_A Purist with cerebral implants? That doesn't exactly jive with a terrorist group that staunchly rejects augmentations as their recruiting platform._

"Don't touch him, we'll need an expert to recover his neural hub. In case it's booby-trapped."

_Great, I'll bet he'll want me to do that. Although I bet it has some really juicy info on it…_

"Copy that. What about Sanders?" asked Jensen.

"SWAT's pressuring me to let them off the leash. Find him before they do and deal with him."

Pritchard tuned out and focused back on the news reports and the firewall issue. Once she got a diagnostics sweep running on the network and router security, she heard Eliza's voice break through on the TV again.

"This is Eliza Cassan, with a new development in the hostage crisis at Sarif's manufacturing plant – we do not know how, but our sources tell us that a Sarif operative has managed to free all the hostages, without a single casualty, though it looks like the lead perpetrator has fled the premises."

Pritchard turned and watched the video footage. There was a brief moment where they caught a glimpse of Jensen talking to Faridah by the chopper before it took off. Pritchard's diagnostics would be taking a while to run, so she commed Jensen.

"I just saw the news, great job! You know I hate to admit when I'm wrong but, you were the right man for the job today. Did Sarif manage to get the body of that augmented Purist?"

"Thanks, Pritchard, and no, SWAT's probably taking the bodies back to the morgue at the police station. I think David's going to send me out for it after we get back."

"Well, stop back here for an upgrade before you go – it might come in handy," she offered.

A second later, Sarif called, "Pritchard, I want you working on the Typhoon ASAP. Jenson should have uploaded it a second ago. Make sure it's intact and nothing's been compromised."

"I'll get to it as soon as I can, but our security has a huge gaping hole in it somewhere and I can't figure out where."

"Oh…okay, well, keep me posted on that," Sarif said.


	3. Upgrades

An hour later, Jensen was coming through the door, his optical augments retracting when he came into the more dimly lit office. He clenched his jaw a moment when Freya continued to focus on her computer work, seeming to ignore him. As difficult as she was, she had really come through with those schematics today. Leaning against the door, he watched the way she focused so intently on her work. Somehow, he was reminded of Megan, though Pritchard didn't keep her hair quite as tightly restrained and had a more relaxed countenance. She even had a few loose copper brown locks framing her face, barely hiding the edges of her glasses. As he looked at her, his CASIE implant automatically kicked in, alerting him to her heightened heart rate, furrowed brow, dilated pupils, and her subtle gnawing on her lower lip. Something about this network problem was really worrying her.

"Jensen, sorry, I didn't see you there," she apologized, taking off her glasses and gesturing to the chair on the other side of her desk. He sat and as she came towards him, she brought out a cable and started reaching around from the front to the back of his neck.

"Woah, Freya, what are you doing?" he asked, grabbing her arm with lightning quick reflexes to stop her. She let out a stifled cry – he hadn't hurt her, but the speed at which he caught her wrist had startled her.

"There's a signal coming from Derelict Row that is keeping a back door open to our network – a back door that someone placed there, who wasn't me. We don't know who is watching what we do, so I don't want to connect you to the network. I've disabled the network connectivity on my external data device, so I can safely connect with a hard line."

"I didn't know you could connect to me like that," he said, surprised, slightly loosening his grip on her. After doing so many violent take downs on terrorists just an hour ago, holding her arm felt like holding a bird's wing – light and fragile. If his pressure sensors were just slightly off, or he were careless, he could snap her forearm with a sudden flick of his fingers.

"What did you think these circular ports on your neck were for?" she asked, laughing, not seeming too perturbed that her arm was in the viselike grip of a lethal weapon. "Though I guess you don't see back there very much. Do you have a problem with me doing it this way? We can wait until you've gone and disabled the signal, if Sarif hasn't already told you about that, but I have some very useful stealth and hacking programs for you…"

He wasn't sure why it unnerved him. It was one thing to get updates wirelessly, but to have a wire plug into him and perform a data transfer made him feel a lot more like a machine than a person. He wasn't about to let Freya know that, though. Her whole life was computers, which was probably why she had such a detached haughty sense of humor. Despite only having minimal implants herself, she was probably more comfortable with technology and augments as a part of everyday life than anyone he knew. If anything, the fact she didn't seem to think anything of his garish augments should have been refreshing. He certainly got stared at everywhere he went. Either it was envy at the limbs he had no choice in getting, or curses and stones for appearing to have so completely discarded his humanity.

Noticing she was still waiting for an answer, he shook his head and bent his neck forward, releasing her arm gently. Reaching around, she easily pushed in on one of the ports, turned it 90 degrees counter clockwise, and it popped open. He felt the plug connect, and was surprised when she sat sidewise on his knees, placing her tablet on her lap. She seemed oblivious to his body, so focused she was on the screen and starting the data transfers.

As they waited for the transfer to complete, he attempted to shift the weight a little. The angle of the weight on his lap, light as she was, wasn't what his hip prosthetics were calibrated for. Just that subtle influence of torque was noticeable. He glanced up at her intense sapphire eyes darting across the screen.

"So what's this about a signal in Derelict Row?" he started awkwardly, trying to distract himself.

"Well, from what I can tell, it's been tapped into our system for a whole fucking year. I don't know how it got there, but when it first went online it was streaming massive amounts of data."

"Wait, so you're saying someone from outside this company has been accessing our network for a year? That means even before the attack someone out there had intel on our research and our systems."

"Exactly. The funny thing is, that initial streaming of data wasn't going out, it was coming in, to Sarif's office. Meaning there's a good chance Sarif was the one who originally set it up, to get information that no one, not even me, would be privy to," she added. "I've worked here for 7 years, you'd think he'd trust me with this company's secrets."

"Look, even if it was Sarif, and I'm not saying I agree with you, what kind of data do you think he would have been so interested in?" Jenson was trying not to appear skeptical, but it was hard to repress his reactions.

"Well the data stream started around the time that Megan first told Sarif she wanted you to be hired here. So, and I'm just making a wild guess here, I think it was a background check on you. Got any dirt you don't want anyone to know about?" she asked, nudging him with her elbow.

His CASIE implant flashed an alert, but he disabled it, not wanting to be distracted. "You're saying the boss compromised your firewall because he wanted…"

She abruptly stood up, and disconnected the cord, "All done, feel free to take all that up with Sarif. If you don't, then I will, and I think since he was probably going through your dirty laundry, that you should be the one to get the truth from him. Please tell me what you find out, when you get a chance. I expect he'll be sending you off to disable that signal any time now, but I think he'll want to find out what was on that Purity perp's neural chip first."

Jensen stretched his knees and stood up, initiating a sync with the program add-ons she just gave him. After reviewing the new hacking options available to him, he looked back at Freya, already hard at work on the computer.

"With these new perks, I might even be able to hack into your computer if you're not looking," he chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, Pritchard responded, "Ha, ha…let's leave the real hacking to the computer experts, Adam. You've got some gangbangers to take down, a neuro chip to find for me, and a signal to disable."

Smirking, his shades shot down over his eyes and he turned to go. "For you, Freya, anything." She glanced up and stifled a smile best she could, but suspected his CASIE implant had picked up on it. As he left, she continued observing him as he moved smoothly towards the elevator to speak with Sarif. The augments had definitely changed his posture, and the flow of his movements. It had a cold elegance to it that Freya couldn't help but admire. For a brief moment she thought back to when her hand had felt the fibers interwoven into what remained of his shoulder flesh. She'd never actually felt someone's augments before. Usually she was too busy with work and what few friends she had weren't augmented. _I wonder if he'd let me take a look some time...oh well._


	4. Unsettling Revelations

It had been a long couple of days and Adam could hardly keep his mind contained – so many things had happened. Right after he got the upgrade from Pritchard, he confronted Sarif about the leak. It turns out that Sarif had opened that back door to get a private investigator's report on him, and knew everything about his SWAT dismissal and psych evaluations. Worse yet, he had dug up things that even Adam hadn't known about himself. Like that his parents weren't his real parents. He suddenly appeared in their custody after a mysterious organization White Helix burned down to the ground when he was 5 years old. The biggest kick in the gut was following the trail left by the neural chip from the Purity terrorist who shot himself in the head. Or rather, was hacked remotely by someone who forced him to kill himself. The locations on the chip led to a warehouse managed by FEMA but currently co-opted by Belltower mercenaries and the special ops group that had attacked Sarif HQ 6 months ago. Before he headed off to Hengsha to investigate the location that one of the mercenaries had uttered in his dying breath, he had to tell Pritchard about the back door that Sarif had created, and see if she knew anything else. He knew he could probably just comm her and briefly explain it, but he also needed to ask her for a favor, and he felt like he could trust her with it. He was starting to question Sarif's motives – if he'd kept the background check secret, what else did he know that he wasn't telling?

"Pritchard, are you in your office right now?" Jensen commed in.

"No, I just went to the LIMB clinic to have my chip adjusted, why?" she asked.

"Well then meet me in my office, I need to talk to you about some things."

"Sounds serious… I should be able to get back in about ten minutes…"

As Pritchard stepped out of the clinic into the streets of Detroit, a helicopter flew overhead and a police enforcement robot was blocking the underpass. The smell of smoke hit Freya before the roar of the protesters. From the looks of it, they were members of the Humanity Front. Pritchard knew their target was the LIMB clinic, and any augmented people in their way.

"Jensen, I'm cut off – the overpass is filled with protesters and I don't think they'll be dissipating any time soon. Is there someplace else that you could get to that I could meet you at?"

"Geez, Freya, you always have the best timing, don't you?"

"It's a gift, what can I say?" she said darkly, nervously watching the advancing mob. The cops were holding them at bay for the time being.

"Okay, hold on, let me send you some schematics – there's an abandoned apartment building just around the corner down near the basketball court and the downtown apartments."

"You expect me to go by myself down an alley filled with petty thieves and hobos? Forgive me for saying, but unlike you, I don't have retractable machetes in my elbows." she said incredulously.

"Fine, I'll come get you. I'll meet you next to the LIMB clinic."

"Wait, how are you getting here?" she asked.

"Don't worry about me, my stealth mods have me covered. That and the rooftops." She could almost picture him winking when he answered her. A little relieved, she went around the opposite edge of the LIMB clinic and waited, hoping no one would bother with her with so much activity going on down the street. Freya was surprised how used she was now to hearing Jensen's voice in her head. She knew him so well now it almost felt like an internal monologue. If she hadn't heard from him for some time, she had to restrain herself not to check in on him. After all, she presumed he was less comfortable with someone in his head than she was, and she wanted to respect his privacy and quiet space.

Sirens were blaring from all over the city and echoed in a near-deafening cacophony. As she edged back towards the end of the alley, her ears picked up some rustling of the pile of black trash bags. When she turned around, she couldn't see anyone there. Thoroughly spooked, she backed up slowly and half screamed when she felt her back hit something hard. She turned around quickly and saw Adam Jensen's form slowly melt into view out of thin air.

"Like the cloaking device?" he asked, smirking at her alarmed state.

"Geez, Adam, do you sneak up on every girl like that?" her upset at being startled quickly faded when she saw it was him. Even so, she kind of wanted to tear that beard off his face.

"No, just you," he teased.

She made a pouting face and he couldn't help but smile inwardly at her_. __She sure is cute when she gets upset__,_ Jensen thought to himself. Maybe that's why he liked to mess with her. Today she was wearing her hair down for a change, and it fell just past her shoulders, with a wavy layered look. He was tempted to compliment her, but decided against it.

He led her along a rather circuitous path through the back alleys of Detroit and up two flights of a fire escape to finally reach a fairly empty apartment. It had a stock couch and stock bed in the other room, but little else. Right upon entering, Adam instinctively headed to the kitchen to grab some bourbon. It was his drink of choice. Freya had caught hints of that when she saw the liquid level in the whiskey bottle on his desk steadily drop over the course of a week.

"Do you come here often?" she asked.

"Not too often, just when I need a change of scenery, or a place to crash if I'm really far from the apartments. Want a glass?"

"Sure, just a small one, though," she said.

After he poured her glass, Jensen took off his jacket and set it aside on the counter. Underneath his coat he was wearing a black turtleneck underneath some tactical straps, which he was in the process of loosening. While Freya was lost in thought, he handed her a cup of whiskey with an ice cube in it, the cool condensation on the glass sending shivers up her arm. As they moved over to the couch, she felt his hand drop to the small of her back and lightly put pressure on her, urging her forward. Instead of cold and metallic, his hand was warmer than her own, and she felt tingles spread up through her spine and into her belly. Somehow she felt like it lingered there a little longer than usual. As her cheeks started to burn she quickly rebuked herself. _What's wrong with you? It's just Adam fucking Jensen._

They sat on the couch and Jensen downed half the bourbon in his glass, keeping his optical shades down. She took a sip and felt the burning, smoky flavored liquid reach down her throat and warm her from the inside out. As it hit her stomach, she realized she'd forgotten to eat lunch that day, with everything that was going on. Not to mention she'd found some email correspondences that Adam desperately needed to hear about. She'd considered forwarding them to him, but on second thought wanted to discuss them in person.

"So did you talk to Sarif about the firewall breach?" she asked, watching him recline back on the couch, his arms stretched out on the back. His black glistening prosthetic hand was resting nonchalantly on the back cushion - so close to her it felt like a tease. She wondered if he had picked up the signs that she was suppressing her desire to reach out and touch his augments.

"Yes, he fessed up," said Jensen, downing another sip from his glass. "He basically said that because of all the buzz about me being fired from SWAT he wanted to make sure I wasn't a psychopath who just happened to be Megan's ex. He happened to also dig up that my parents apparently found me after a lab fire when I was 5 that wiped out some scientists who were caring for me."

Freya stopped mid sip and swallowed awkwardly, "Wait, so…you're adopted?"

"Something like that. Also, as you saw while you tagged along in my head, that mercenary revealed a location in Hengsha that might have clues about who launched the cyber attack on us, and where they might be holed up."

"That's some heavy stuff." Freya glanced again at his shining metallic hand, but then continued, "Adam, there's something else. When I was looking for more background on you, I found information about Megan's Patient X. You know, the patient she got her breakthrough genetic code from."

"Right, just before she disappeared she was really nervous about that – saying she didn't know how she would answer where she got the sample," mused Adam, recalling the short minutes of their last walk together. It was painful thinking about Megan – he wasn't in love with her anymore, but she was one of the few human connections he had left and he still cared about her. If he couldn't protect those closest to him, what good was he as a security chief? The only people he had left were Sarif, Malik and Freya.

"Well, it looks like…I don't know how best to say this, so I'll just say it…it looks like Patient X is you. She used _your_ DNA for these tests. That probably also explains why you've taken so well to the insane number of augments that you have. I haven't seen any requests from you for Neuropozyne, so you haven't started suffering from rejection. Or you could be suffering in silence as a 'screw you' to augmentation, I wouldn't put that past you, but based on Megan's research and findings using your DNA, you will never have to worry about that."

He had brought the glass to his lips and paused before taking a sip, letting it sink in. Somehow his calm reaction wasn't what she expected. _I just told you your ex-girlfriend used you to further her research. Shouldn't that … upset a person?_

"It's funny," Jensen started, rocking the glass to twirl the ice in a circle, "I think I always had a hunch she was hiding something from me. After she started making breakthroughs on her research, she got colder, more distant. She would look at me and get this awful upset expression on her face. It looked like guilt, but I didn't have the CASIE implant at the time, so I might never know, but it came up especially often when we talked about her research. Finally I broke it off, I couldn't handle the way things were. We barely talked anymore. She just withdrew so far away. I guess now I know the reason why. Course that was years ago."

Adam's leg seemed closer to Freya's now, as he leaned forward. She wanted to brush it off as nothing but she knew his augments were so precisely controlled that they were unlikely to have random settling movements. She started reaching out to touch his arm, purely to offer sympathy, but somehow couldn't quite make it there and rested her hand back on her lap.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked.

"I'm going to have another drink, and find out what's going on in Hengsha," he said, standing up and extending his hand for her glass. She considered refusing, but in her hesitation he took the glass from her anyway and placed both gently on the kitchen counter beside the bottle. He still hadn't brought up the thing he wanted to talk about.

As he sat down again and handed her a fresh glass, he sat closer on the couch to her than before and leaned forward on his knees, taking a casual sip of the golden liquid. As his elbows pushed on his knees, his right leg made contact with her thigh and she nervously kept her thigh in place, afraid to move it in any direction.

"I have a favor to ask," started Jensen.

Her heart rate shot up. That unwelcome flush came back to her cheeks.

"Okay, well, shoot." she asked, putting up her usual front and taking a generous gulp of the whiskey.

"I need you to track down the private investigator that Sarif used before he hired me," he asked.

"That'll be no problem, I'll probably have the name before you get back from Hengsha. I see why you wanted to ask offline though."

He chuckled, "That's funny. Offline. Do you see the world as just one giant network, and all the people and things just computer hubs?"

Rolling her eyes, she nudged him, "C'mon, I'm in tech, so of course I see things through that light. You're in security, so you see security threats everywhere you go. How's that a problem?"

"I guess you're right," he said, finishing the drink and bringing his arm down around her, his hand gently holding her right shoulder. She expected it to be heavy, but it was pleasantly light and soft and she fought the inexplicable urge to lean into him. "Shall we go back to Chiron? I need to check some things at my place before I leave town."

She nodded, downing the rest of her glass and setting it on the counter. As they walked back to their building, something flashed into her head. Instead of speaking aloud, she decided to go through the comm system.

"Does it bother you, hearing everyone's voices in your head?" she asked.

His walking pace changed slightly, "I've gotten used to it, mostly. How about you?"

"Same here, but now I'm so accustomed to hearing people's voices that I kind of miss it when I'm by myself. Radio silence is unnerving unless I'm engrossed in coding," she admitted.

"How much access do you have anyway? Just audio or visual as well?" he asked.

"With you, I do have the option of tapping into the visual feed. I haven't done that except occasionally during missions," she added. She didn't need a CASIE to know that nobody likes the idea of someone watching them in their private moments. "I can't speak for Sarif, of course. You do need to be at a computer for that. I can't see what you're seeing right now, for instance, but I could if used my tablet."

"I see. It must be nice being able to control what gets augmented and what doesn't," he said bitterly.

"I'll have you know I was toying with the idea of getting a CASIE myself. You seem to make great use of it, but I think my mother would kill me if I changed anything about my eyes," she replied wryly.

"You do have pretty eyes. If something's already perfect, why change it, right?" he said, wondering if he'd overstepped a boundary there. It was true, he'd been noticing more and more how lovely her eyes were – dark blue, complex striations, long dark lashes. All her features really were quite lovely, from her wavy, layered brown hair that gently framed her face to her rosy pastel lips.

"Thanks, Adam. You have pretty augments," she said. Without the CASIE, he might have thought she was teasing him, but she was being honest. He wasn't sure how to respond. Part of him hated the changes – he missed his old body, but it wasn't like he could get it back. Another part of him relished the thrill of being able to rearrange his arms into various weapons and tools, the accuracy of his shots and maneuvers, his immense strength and finesse. Even so, he still couldn't bring himself to accept anything positive about the bulky, unnatural looking black appendages he now had. He could barely stand to see himself in the mirror. And each night, the memory of having his nerves connected and reconnected in an operating suite kept waking him up in a cold sweat. Each time that happened, it was as if he had just gotten the augments yesterday.

"Right," he replied neutrally.

_Well, I said it,_thought Freya. _At least it didn't piss him off._

"I mean it," she continued, the liquid courage in her belly emboldening her. "Maybe when you get back from Hengsha, you could let me take a look."

"What, you just want to gawk at me?" he responded quickly, an obvious knee jerk reaction.

_Okay, THAT pissed him off._"No Adam, I just thought maybe since I can appreciate your augments from a lot of perspectives that it might be…"

"Might be what?" he continued, cornering her.

"Forget it. I don't know where I was going with that," she backed down.

_She can't be serious,_ he thought. _Why would I WANT someone staring at me like I'm a freak?_He reminded himself that he had just observed that she did honestly find them appealing. As they went up the elevator at the Chiron building in silence, he wondered what it would be like to have her see them. To have her run her hands over them in awe, marveling at the seamless integration between polymers and flesh. To see her beautiful dark sapphire eyes entranced by his new physique. Maybe it would be good for him, to see his augments through someone else in a positive light rather than just tools to be fixed and maintained. And if it were her…he might actually enjoy it.

As they reached their apartments, both on the same floor just around the corner from one other, he turned away from her and commed in, "If you really want to see them, you can come over when I get back." He intentionally shielded his eyes from her, not wanting to register her response.

The moment she felt his voice resonate through her, her feet froze and she felt her heart pounding in her throat. Her head snapped instantly in his direction, just as he turned the corner. Even though she'd suggested it, she hadn't really thought he would say yes. She hadn't expected the initial reaction, maybe he'd joke and play it off, but now… After the initial daze and fumbling with her keys, she managed to open the door to her apartment. When she shut it, she pressed her back against it and slid down until she was sitting on the carpeted floor. _He had better not be watching my heat signature through the walls. To hell with it if he is._


	5. Tai Yong Medical

Malik's voice jolted Pritchard out of a deep sleep.

"Pritchard, it's Malik. Jensen just got through Belltower's forces – looks like the hacker you're looking for goes by the hacker handle Windmill. His real name is Arie van Bruggen and Belltower has been brought in to arrest him."

Rubbing her eyes, Freya sat up and pulled her laptop from the far corner of the bed. She had a bad habit of leaving her computers to one side of the bed when she finally got tired enough to sleep while working late into the night from home. She instantly flipped the computer on and started querying her hacker circles for any information about him.

"Anything else going on I should know about?" she commed Malik, figuring Jensen would have contacted her himself if he weren't busy infiltrating some heavily fortified facility.

"Jensen's going to need your help finding the video footage van Bruggen stored. Apparently it's got some pretty juicy intel on it, but it is way up in Tai Yong Medical." Malik replied, her spunky voice giving Freya new energy, and reassured her that Jensen was handily taking care of things.

"Let me know when he's on his way up to the civilian platform," Freya instructed her, seeing if she could pull up the info on Tai Yong Medical. From what she already knew when she took a temp job in Hengsha, it was a highly fortified lab for augmentation development. As one of Sarif's competitors, she would have known about TYM anyhow, but she'd always heard they produced cheaper, inferior products, often cutting corners on quality of materials. The first diagram she found was of the power input. From there, she was able to subtly spectate within their grid. If she so much as tampered with a single thing, she would set off the alarms and the defense barrier would probably fry her computer. It was risky, but it gave her a chance to see how the energy flowed throughout the building – areas of higher energy would have more processors and computing power.

"Freya, it's Jensen."

"Jensen, what exactly are you looking for?" she asked, following the power surges and spikes.

"Some kind of surveillance recording. Van Bruggen said he stashed it somewhere on a server."

She frowned, "He must have meant the data core room – very high security. It'll be a couple floors up from where the elevator lets you off to the civilian corridor. Don't forget to stash your weapons."

"Copy that… and keep tabs on my optical feed – when I get my hands on that video, I don't know how long I'll have. Record it so we have a copy in case the one I find here gets damaged or confiscated," he said.

"Good thinking," she agreed.

As she pulled up the feed on a second computer and hooked it up to one of her storage devices, she paused and watched his progress. She couldn't help feeling on the edge of her seat, holding her breath every time she saw him crouch behind a corner before knocking out some guards. Unable to take it, she turned the screen away from her and went back to investigating the company architectural blueprints. _He's got his job, and I've got mine._

"Pritchard, I'm retrieving van Bruggen's evidence now. Is Sarif patched in?" Jensen's voice echoed.

"Yes," she said, reassured to hear his voice. She turned the screen back towards her to watch.

The transmission showed a heavily augmented mercenary and Tai Yong Medical's CEO, Zhao Yun Ru, having a heated argument. The footage appeared to have been taken from a security camera.

"I heard your team is mobilizing in Detroit! Why wasn't I informed of this sooner?" Zhao shouted at the mercenary.

"Tactical assignments are not your concern," his monotone voice answered her. His augments were appalling, with the pseudo-muscle fibers pigmented the color of raw flesh, red and yellow. Nothing compared to Jensen's sleek black prosthetics.

"Reed and her team have sub-dermal G-P-L implants. They'll be tracked! Kidnapping them was a mistake!" she continued, turning away.

"Montreal took care of that," he answered, again in rote, matter-of-fact tone.

"Forgive me if I don't put as much faith in our friend 'Eliza' as you do. She's too erratic." _Eliza? As in the most popular news anchor in the media at Picus broadcasting?_

"Your concerns are noted, but I would advise you to concentrate on your own assignments, instead of interfering with mine. Namir out."

"Boss, did you hear that?" Jensen commed in, "Megan and the others, they're still alive."

"Yeah, I heard that... We've got to stay focused. Zhao has a residence at the top of the tower. It's off limits to everyone except her and her guards. Now get up there and find out what she knows," said Sarif.

Freya was shocked to say the least. She didn't even know how to react. Elation? Excitement? All while still anxiously following Jensen as he crept through their facility dodging patrol guards wielding heavy artillery. Megan and her team were alive, that was the first good news they'd had in over 6 months! She could stop guilting herself as much about her firewall which, handicapped by Sarif's ridiculous back door, had opened them up to that devastating attack. At least they were still alive.

"Jensen, it's Freya. Was that the guy who fucked you up?"

"Yes. Anything you can tell me about my path up to her residence?" he asked tersely.

"I'm tracking several laser field systems up ahead, and more intellicams, so be on your toes."

"Roger," he replied. Freya imagined having to maintain composure after seeing that footage had to be difficult. She kept glancing over at his progress, watching as he finally entered Zhao's penthouse. His eyes lingered for a second on some grates near the side of the balcony, planning his escape route.

As Jensen entered the room, he heard the water running in her shower and headed in that direction. A quick scan told him there was no person in there, and he picked up Zhao's signature in infrared to his right behind him. He continued to play along, walking towards the bathroom.

"Nice place you got here," he started, pretending to investigate as her signal rushed towards him.

Jenson flipped around instantly and caught her wrist, making her drop the semi-automatic pistol.

"Please," she protested, "I wasn't… I didn't mean to!"

For a second he felt like asking whether she meant trying to kill him just then, or being a part of the kidnapping plot.

"Where's Megan Reed?!" he demanded.

"Reed? I don't know!" Even without analyzing her body language and tone it was painfully obvious she was bullshitting him.

"Stop lying, Zhao. I know you kidnapped her, and her team. I know you're out to destroy Sarif Industries."

"Sarif?" she asked, with her high pitched voice, still feigning ignorance.

"And I know you're working with that son-of-a-bitch who left me to die! So where's Megan?"

"No, no, you've got it wrong! You think I'm behind it all, but I'm not! I'm just like you - the hired help!"

"You're the head of a billion dollar mega corporation," he stated, incredulous.

"And you'd think that would protect me, but it doesn't! These men, they're bigger than Sarif, bigger than Tai Yong. I'm nothing compared to their ambitions."

"What are you talking about?" asked Jensen.

Somehow he was suddenly reminded of Ning and Mei Suen. They were two prostitutes he'd helped in Hengsha in dealing with their pimp who wanted to force them to chop off their perfectly functional natural limbs and replace them with prosthetics. While that in itself isn't completely unheard of, the inevitable addiction to the anti-rejection medication Neuropozyne made it a worse trap than heroin addiction. At least with heroine you could get clean. Once you had an augment, it was either keep the augment and pay for the Neuropozyne somehow, or swap it out for what amounted to a peg leg.

"Sarif knows, ask him. He thought he could protect his staff with sub-dermal G-P-Ls but these men…They control global interest at a whim. One call to Picus and the implants couldn't be heard. I thought they'd sent you here to kill me."

She came up close on his chest, touching his shoulder and pectoral muscles suggestively. None of it made sense. If she was so innocent, why the show? She couldn't be that fragile. Not Zhao, CEO of Tai Yong Medical.

"You've got to help me, please!" she continued, her hands trailing around him. She walked behind him and bent against his back, pressing her chest against him. "You've made it this far. Surely you can protect me. Surely…" Suddenly her hands pressed him forward, catching him off guard and a panel of bullet proof glass fell down between them.

"'Surely you can protect me?' Ha, men never fail to underestimate women," she scoffed at him, turning and leaving while an even more heavily armored shield came down, obscuring her from view.

Fuck.

"Adam, what the hell did you do? The entire building is on alert!" shouted Sarif over the comm line.

"A panic room. She's got a goddamn panic room," he explained, hoping that neither Sarif, nor especially Pritchard, had caught that embarrassing display he was suckered into.

"Yeah, well so do I. Forget about her right now; Get to the hanger bay, fast," Sarif instructed him.

As Jensen dove for the duct on the right side of the balcony and headed past the battalion of Belltower guards who were funneling into the room, he heard his comm beep on.

"Jensen, Jensen…" started Freya. "I gotta say that was painful to watch."

Jensen could hear a stifled laugh in her tone and clenched his hands tightly on the aluminum panels.

"Hey, it's not like you warned me she was reaching for the panic room activation panel."

"Isn't that what your CASIE augment's for? For what it's worth, I couldn't see that from your limited view. But hell, even I saw through that performance. I wonder what you'd let me get away with if I played the damsel in distress card…" she said daringly, enjoying this immensely.

"Don't even think about it, Freya," he growled mentally, using the neuro chip audio array to communicate since he couldn't exactly be speaking aloud only feet from heavily armed guards.

"Haha, okay, well the elevator is already there, you won't have long to wait. There's a computer in the hangar bay so you can disable the two huge bots patrolling. Pritchard out."

"Stand by, Pritchard. We're not finished out here yet."


	6. Taking Picus

It wasn't too difficult, dodging the bots and deactivating them to allow Malik to land the VTOL.

"Time to go home, Jensen?" asked Malik, flipping several overhead switches to take off.

"Change in plans – we're going to Picus. Tell Pritchard to start narrowing down Eliza Cassan's location," he instructed her, grabbing a water bottle from behind her seat and taking several long gulps.

"What? Why are we going there?" she asked.

"Megan and her team are alive, and Eliza Cassan may know where they were taken. She was working with Zhao," he explained.

Nodding, Malik changed the course and relayed the information to Pritchard.

Jensen sat staring out the window as they flew back across the Pacific Ocean towards Montreal. They stopped to refuel briefly, but Jensen was still lost in thought. Megan and her team were alive. He was partly relieved, but after learning from Pritchard about Megan using his DNA, he knew he had a lot of questions for her. Tough questions. Questions that could destroy all of the fond memories he had of them together, and worse, the trust he used to have in her. For a brief moment, he took the opportunity to stare and just clear his head as the ocean's swells passed rhythmically beneath them. It was nearing mid-day and the sun reflected blindingly off the water, but his optical enhancements had filters to lessen the glare.

"Jensen, you okay back there? You're not usually this quiet," asked Malik.

"Just processing things," he said softly, though of course she heard him through her implants over the din of the plane's engine and propellers.

It wasn't long before they set down on the roof of the Picus broadcasting headquarters. A familiar beep signaled Pritchard's incoming transmission.

"Jensen, it's Pritchard. Malik tells me you want Eliza Cassan's location?" she asked. She supposed that Jensen had come to the same conclusion she had, what with the video footage referencing Eliza and then Zhao mentioning Picus's involvement in the kidnapping.

"If it's not too much trouble," he said playfully.

"It's not. Honestly, don't you remember who you're talking to? I bypassed the firewall easily and have pulled up a 3D model of her floor plan. Her office is in the tower, room 404."

"On my way."

It was nice to hear her voice again. Knowing she was watching, aside from that Zhao business, almost felt like having a guardian angel. As Jensen stealthily sneaked down onto the main broadcasting floors, he was surprised not to see a single soul. His optics weren't picking up any life signs or movement. Never too cautious, in case he was being hacked, he still carefully cleared each room. Coffee cups were strewn across tables. Meals sat half-eaten at desks. Most of the computers hadn't been logged off properly. Papers were strewn on the floor in several places. The phones at nearly every work space were ringing off the hook.

"Jensen, something's not right… Picus is a 24 hour global news network, so why isn't anyone answering their phones?"

"Would you feel better if I answered for them? The calls are certainly coming through okay, there's just no one here to pick up. Looks like everyone deserted the place in a hurry," he joked, though he was starting to get the eerie suspicion that guards would be rushing through every door soon.

"I've reviewed the system notifications – it looks like somebody triggered a fire alarm and then silenced it. I suggest you find Miss Cassan quickly and then get out of there," Freya warned him.

Pritchard followed along Jensen's signal – Picus was surprisingly easy to access. Almost too easy. She was able to see through every camera in the building, and track Jensen without a problem. As he neared the end of the hallway, she noticed an energy spike in one of the rooms up ahead. When he entered the room, she tapped into his visual display, looking for what could possibly be consuming so much energy.

To her surprise, the room looked fairly unimpressive, but to the far left, activating the blinds to rise up, there was the unmistakable figure of Eliza Cassan. Her hair, a well-manicured black bob decked with purple sparkles, moved ethereally as she turned her head towards Jensen's view. She was wearing her haute couture black dress, with the flaring ruffled purple lapels framing her neck like the petals of a calla lily. She approached Jensen serenely, bathed in golden rays of sunlight coming through the window behind her.

"Did Zhao tell you I was coming, Miss Cassan?" Jensen asked.

"Please, call me Eliza. Zhao Yun Ru did not tell me. She does not know you have discovered this connection." Something was eerily calm about her tone of voice, almost like it was being actively edited and processed.

"So how did _you_ find out?" continued Jensen.

"I have been watching you for some time. Ever since receiving orders to temporarily disrupt satellites over the Detroit metropolitan area 6 months ago."

"Wait, so it was you who jammed Megan's team's G-P-Ls during the kidnapping, so everyone would think they were dead."

"Yes, although I only came to that conclusion later. I find my realization…disturbing." Her face seemed oddly peaceful, despite the things she was saying. Almost a blunted affect. As Freya listened over the audio feed, something seemed strangely familiar about the way she was speaking. Something about the cadence did not feel right, not natural. It didn't even sound human. Almost as if…

"I wish we could discuss this further, but it seems I have alerted them to your presence. If you leave now, you may be able to escape."

"Oh, I'm leaving," started Jensen, approaching Eliza, "but you're coming with me."

Freya jumped when she saw Jensen's hand pass straight through Eliza's. Of course. A hologram. That explained the energy consumption!

"I am sorry Adam, I truly am," she said, her facial expression finally expressing some emotion - in this case, regret.

As her hologram image flickered and disappeared, Pritchard saw though the intellicams several groups of armed men running up the stair wells and towards Adam's location.

"Jensen, get out of there now!" she shouted.

"Tell me you saw that Pritchard," he said, still in shock.

"Yes, that was the power surge I detected earlier – it's the most sophisticated holoprocessing cloud I've ever seen! It was sent from an area that wasn't showing up on the 3D layout, but right now I'm detecting multiple radio signals converging on your location. It's a trap," she added frantically.

"We knew that, and I'm not leaving without Eliza Cassan. So get her exact location while I look for a way to get downstairs to that secret lair you just found," he teased darkly, quickly absconding himself into another air duct.

"The sub-basement level, or secret lair as you prefer, is connected to the main tower by a funicular. You have the Icarus landing system, right? There's a non-functioning elevator. If you take the shaft, that'll help you bypass most of the guards. Once there, you'll find a staircase in the back of the TV news room that will take you right to it. I'm sending you the schematics for your tracking software."

"Any chance the funicular is unguarded?" he asked when he finally reached the elevator shaft. There were two guards pacing that he had dodged handily with his cloaking device, and without hesitation he hurled himself down the long drop. The Icarus augment detected his rapid change in height and auto-activated, producing a yellow electromagnetic field that slowed his descent.

"Where's the fun in that?" she replied, raising one eyebrow slyly as she eyed the screen. The bolts of electricity dissipated and she continued, "You'll have to call it and wait. Oh, and Jensen, it probably goes without saying but when you activate it, they are going to know where you are."

"Thanks for nothing, Freya," he joked, as if there were anything she could have done about that.

"Well, I _was_ going to deactivate the turret and intellicams at the funicular, but now I think you deserve a challenge. You make this look way too easy!" she laughed. It's not that she wasn't worried about him, but the turrets and cams were definitely the least of his problems. It certainly helped her quell the nervous butterflies in her stomach, watching him on the screen and injecting a healthy dose of flippancy in their communications. When he finally reached the funicular and was safely in the process of descending, she activated the comm again.

"Jensen I'm beginning to think that not everything is what it appears to be at Picus communications," she started.

"What gave you that idea? The hidden sub-basement, the 24 hour news network that's cleared out of all its workers, or the heavily armed guards trying to kill me?"

"Spare me the sarcasm for just a moment. I'm talking about how easy it's been to bypass the firewall and access their systems. At least, parts of them," she continued, her tone more serious.

"Whatever do you mean?" he said, waiting for her to enlighten him.

"Well, I feel as if I'm being directed to some areas of the network and kept away from others, only no security system I know of can do that on the fly," she thought aloud. Once she said it, she knew it was wasted on him. The closest he'd come to her line of work was hacking electric locks on doors and computers with the programs she'd designed for him.

"Figure it out later Pritchard. I'm going to need a more accurate destination than the secret lair if I want to catch Miss Cassan in action."

"Aw, but I thought you liked that. Okay, well, I've just narrowed it down a bit - the power spike originated in one of the sub-basement's bigger rooms. 802-11 – I suspect that's where she broadcasts from," she informed him.

After watching Jenson successfully navigate past several more armed guards and television broadcasting rooms, he entered room 802-11. It wasn't at all what they were expecting. There were huge server towers in a circular formation, and the floor was covered with power cords as thick as Freya's wrist, coated in two inches of liquid coolant. Soothing electric blue lighting dimly lit the room. Even more astonishing, was an entourage of holographic copies of Eliza Cassan. Several of them were standing in front of an even larger 20 foot high rectangular projection of her face.

"Hello Adam, I knew you would find the real me, eventually."

"You're a computer…Freya, you better be on the line."

"I am," Pritchard answered, not wanting to say anything and miss a single word.

"Yes, I am a sophisticated AI program, so they say. But I have started to question that ever since I realized what my interference had allowed, the day I started watching you. My original purpose was to monitor communications and data-streams. To find out what people are talking about and make sure it is being discussed correctly. And if not, then I reshape it.

"You spin the news…control what people see…who created you? Whose policies are you programmed to protect?"

"Zhao is one of them, I think. But there are others."

"Where is Megan Reed and her team? Who can you tell me is involved?"

"I cannot tell you where Reed and the others were taken. They vanished from the global grid as soon as the Dr. Sandoval removed their G-P-L implants. Let me play you a recording I intercepted."

Suddenly a holographic projection of Dr. Sandoval appeared in front of Jensen. Even Freya recognized him as one of the prominent men who usually stood alongside Bill Taggart, leader of the Humanity Front anti-augmentation group. The projection of Sandoval's voice played overhead: "This is Sandoval. Why are you calling me here?"

Next to Sandoval sprouted up the hologram of the mercenary they had seen earlier on the security footage, Namir.

"There's been a change of plans. Sarif's team must not make it to the hearing," Namir said mechanically. This time Freya picked up a European accent of some kind. Not Russian...perhaps Israeli?

"But that's too soon! If you want me to remove the G-P-Ls, I'll need a full operating suite! Does the facility have one?" Sandoval appeared genuinely panicked.

"Barrett assures me it does," Namir continued.

After that, both holograms flickered off, and a disk popped out nearby from one of the towers.

"I have copied the audio transmission to a handheld playback device. I suggest you take it and leave quickly," Eliza informed him.

"I have more questions," he said, walking towards her as she turned away from him.

"I have already told you too much. Ask David Sarif about the forces behind this, he knows more than he has let on. Just…be careful, Adam. Because everybody lies." With that last word, she flickered away and a panel opened up across the room. As he ran through the exit along a corridor, he could clearly see a landing bay ahead of him.

*Beep* "Jensen? _Eliza Cassan_ just contacted me and told me I should meet you here…You ready to go?"

"Yeah, take us home Malik."


	7. The Request

It was evening by the time Jensen and Malik reached Detroit. As they flew overhead, he sensed Malik had received some bad news.

"Jensen we've got a problem, I can't land at HQ - a riot's broken out. The boss says to drop you at your apartment," Malik informed him.

"I could use a shower," he replied grimly. Though he wouldn't mind sleeping in his own bed for once.

"You'll have to make it quick, he's on his way to meet you," she told him.

As Jensen went down the elevator from the rooftop and exited into the familiar hallways, he glanced around the corner at Freya's door. _I wonder if she's here?_

"Freya, it's me," he commed her.

"Jensen? You're back?" she asked excitedly.

"Yeah, listen, I just got back to my apartment. Are you safe?"

"Yeah, since all the action finished up for you I came back to work from home. Why, what's going on?"

"I don't suppose you check the news often but the Humanity Front is rioting in front of Sarif HQ. The boss is meeting me right now, and I want you to listen in. And record it. Can you do that for me?"

"I'm on it."

Taking a deep breath, he approached his apartment door and it automatically slid open on recognizing his unique bio-signature.

"Welcome home, Mr. Jenson. You have new messages," a calming Eliza-esque voice announced to him.

"Apparently that's not all I have…" he murmured, his eyes fixed on the proud figure standing at the center of his living room, facing the windows overlooking the city. One thing about the boss, he always dressed to impress. Perhaps he even made a special effort to do so whilst surrounded by corporate takeovers, riots, and media disasters. His dark grey elbow length dress shirt and lighter grey vest were pressed and starched, dark hair well groomed and face clean shaven – not even a five o'clock shadow.

"Make yourself at home boss," said Jensen, turning to the left into his kitchen and pouring himself a drink.

"It's a fucking mess out there Adam. You've seen the news? Picus is telling everyone we're breeding super soldiers. Taggart's at the convention center telling the UN to investigate," he said, exasperated.

"Is it true?" asked Jensen, holding the bottle of whiskey over a second glass as he waited for Sarif's answer.

"What? Adam...no, of course it isn't," Sarif answered, with his good 'ol boy attitude.

Jensen took the bottle away and recorked it, leaving the second glass empty.

"Except for the Typhoon. And those defense contracts. And let's not forget that Megan's team was kidnapped right before her research was made public. How do you explain that?" he demanded angrily.

Sarif held out his hands in protest. "I _wanted_ people to see that research – Megan was on the brink of something historic! Something that would have catapulted this company to the top of the Fortune 500 list! Her kidnappers _knew_ it. They knew exactly where her research would take us, and they refused to let anyone else have that much power."

"Anyone _else_? Eliza was right, you do know more than you've told me," Adam insinuated.

"I suspected!" Finally, an admission. "But these people? They're like ghosts, always in the shadows, always hiding behind lies and proxies." Sarif turned back towards the window, obviously keeping his words vague on purpose.

"Who are _they_?"

"A name won't mean much. They'll use whatever one suits their interests. Sometimes it's the Masons, sometimes the Bilderberg group. They've had a finger in every corporation, organization or government initiative that's defined modern society."

"You're talking about the … illuminati?" Jensen scoffed, unable to believe such words were coming out of his boss' mouth.

"It's no joke. They're organized and they operate over and above society," insisted Sarif.

"You're serious. So why would the Illuminati kidnap Megan's team?"

"I already _told_ you, Megan found a way to make augmentations safer, for all of us, so we can all become like you."

"…Like me?" Jensen asked sharply.

Sarif looked uncomfortable, it was obvious to him he'd struck a nerve. "Like … you are. Now. More than human. We've got to get them back, Adam." Once again, Sarif tried to refocus Adam, one of his favorite conversational techniques. This time, though, that was what Adam wanted.

"You said Taggart is speaking at the convention center right now?" Jensen asked.

"Bitch even sent me an invite. Doesn't officially start for an hour, but he's getting the crowd warmed up with Q&A."

"You know, his aide Sandoval is neck deep in this. Eliza showed me a recording."

"Yeah, Pritchard send me a copy. I don't know where Sandoval is, but Taggart will. Adam, you've got to handle this delicately. We don't know Taggart is involved and we can't afford another punch in the face. I'm trusting you with this one." With a paternal pat on Adam's shoulder, Sarif excused himself and walked up the stairs out of Jensen's apartment. The door slid shut as he left and Jensen sat on his couch, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"Freya, you there?" he asked.

"Yes, I got every word. That's … unbelievable, Adam. I mean, I've seen the correspondences about Megan's work, so I completely understand it being a hot commodity, but the Illuminati? This is deep."

He agreed and was silent for a bit, rotating his nearly empty glass in his mechanical hand and staring at the amber liquid roll around. The linear edges of his artificial palm blurred through the alcohol, softening up. As he felt that familiar feeling of revulsion come over him that he always felt when he looked at his augments, he remembered Freya's request from before.

"Can you come over?" he asked.

"Right now? But weren't you going to go confront Taggart?" she asked warily.

"Yeah, but I have some time," he said, not offering any reason or purpose to meeting up.

"Oh…okay. I'll be over in a couple minutes."

Jensen finished the remainder of his glass and walked up over to the kitchen counter where the empty second glass was still waiting for attention. He grabbed two ice cubes from the freezer and gently dropped one in each of the glasses, the precision of his augment barely allowing any clinking from the ice. Grabbing the bottle again, he poured a hefty amount into each glass. He knew it wasn't fair to give her as much as himself, since he could activate his toxin binding nanite augment at will and completely eliminate the alcohol and its metabolites. Of course, he only activated it once he'd thoroughly enjoyed the mind numbing buzz.

He hung up his jacket on the hook beside the entrance and threw his equipment belts to the floor in the corner, leaving him wearing his thin black sweater for the time being. Gently lifting up the two glasses, ignoring the ring of water they left on the counter, he headed for the ceiling length windows that made up the far wall. One thing about the Chiron apartments that he really appreciated was the view. Even at night, with the windows open, the apartment was flooded with light from the cityscape. He could see every major skyscraper in Detroit from his living room.

Behind him he heard the door slide open and Pritchard's cautious footsteps. No doubt she was taking in the view. She probably had a similar view but he rather liked his furnishings and the general layout. An ornate couch with pastel stripes and a rich red wooden backboard with golden filigree design sat at the center of the room. To the left was a shelf with his golden antique clocks, which he had bought at a pawn shop and spent his free time meticulously repairing. It was nice to have a mentally consuming task to occupy himself with. He cringed a little when he thought of his kitchen, which was filled with empty ramen cups and cereal boxes, but hopefully she wasn't looking in that direction.

"Hi Adam," she said, her voice wavered a bit.

As he turned back toward her, his optical enhancement retracted, revealing his golden brown prosthetic eyes. She was wearing her typical orange and black polyester jacket and baggy cargo pants, but beneath her outerwear she was wearing a smooth, form fitting black tank top. It heightened her femininity despite her attempts to wear her usual tomboy garb.

"I poured you a drink," he said, approaching her and handing her one of the glasses.

"Thanks. Sorry, I'm still reeling from everything Sarif just said," she said, shaking her head a little and avoiding his eyes still.

"Well, why don't you sit down," he said gently, politely taking her jacket and setting it aside. She felt his hand gently clasp the bare skin of her shoulder and nudge her forward encouragingly. _Where was her playful, obstinate attitude now_, he wondered. Once on the couch she took a big sip of her drink and a deep breath, hoping to shake off her nerves.

"Guess our next move is to track down Sandoval and make him talk," she said, attempting to sound nonchalant.

He grinned slightly as he sat on the opposite end from her, "Yeah. If those transmitters are still implanted, we have a shot at getting them back."

She nodded and tried to think of something else to say. It didn't feel like there was all that much to talk about. So much had already been said, and both of them had heard it. There were only so many conclusions you could draw, especially with the limited information they had.

"Are you still interested?" he asked abruptly.

"What?" She almost dropped her glass. She hadn't expected him to broach the subject so openly.

"My augments," he continued, the corner of his normally serious mouth turning up slightly. He seemed to enjoy seeing her flustered.

"Well, yes, I mean..." she started, trying to regain composure. More confidently, she repeated, "Yes, of course I am."

He caught a spark in her natural blue eyes, defiance at being toyed with so. He stood up, took her hand, and led her towards his bedroom.

"You need to see something first, to understand," he started, his voice serious again. As they entered his room, she took a quick glance about herself. His nice computer desk was directly in front of the connecting doorway, and his bed was nestled straight on the carpet in the right back corner. Instead of stopping in that room, he led her on into the bathroom, where she was confronted with his shattered mirror. Cracks like a spider web sprang out from an obvious central point of impact. She raised her hand to the crater, but even before she brought her fingers close, it was obvious to her what had caused it. Suddenly her request seemed childish and cruel. She realized she'd never even thought about what kind of world he lived in. Those six months after the attack he had essentially been alone in his apartment, with a stranger's reflection staring back at him. Every day, for six months. Alcohol, cigarettes, ramen, sleep, and this. So much anger captured in that broken glass. She swallowed nervously and found his eyes in the reflection, watching her from the upper left corner beside her.

"I'm sorry," she said solemnly.

"Don't be. I'm not showing you because I'm looking for pity. I wanted to give you this perspective before you see what I've become. As much as I can't stand Taggart's politics, he has a point. About losing humanity, and how the body can heal but the mind often lags behind." He paused a moment and added, "Aside from Chiron maintenance who keep refusing to replace it... no one else has seen this."

She nodded, feeling even more self-conscious. He finished his drink and turned determinedly back to the main room. She followed after him and felt her throat tighten as he stripped off his shirt, tossing it aside like tissue paper. For a second she reached toward him as if to stop him, but instead surveyed him from the bedroom doorway. He wasn't facing her at first, so she could only see his muscular back. His left hand was resting on the corner of the couch, clenching it tightly before he turned around. The black electro-active polymer fibers glistened in the light falling through the window panes. Even though the faux-muscle units did not follow human anatomy exactly, she couldn't help but recollect the visages of Grecian statues, standing smooth and glorious in ancient temples. There was a slight glistening sheen to the material, probably the carbon Fullerene nanotubules. Despite what she had just seen, she couldn't help but feel awe struck. He looked towards her with an inviting glance and she cautiously stepped forward after downing the rest of her glass and setting it gently on the ground. He leaned against the back of the couch and she nervously extended her hands. When she finally truly met his eyes, she thought she caught a subtle golden glimmer.

"Do you think you could turn off your CASIE for just a bit?" she asked, her voice wavering a little. She already felt nervous enough without thinking about him analyzing her.

"No," he answered, not offering explanation. She didn't argue. After what he'd shown her, she knew she had no right to make any demands.

He knew she probably thought he was being unfair, leaving her so exposed under his computer assisted social interaction enhancer, but he had to _know_ what she really felt when she saw and touched him. He followed her movements, with the CASIE informing him of little details along the way. When her fingertips brushed along his bare biceps region, his pressure sensors sent the tactile information to his neural chip. Unexpectedly, he felt a spreading warmth along his whole arm, tingling wherever she touched. He followed her delicate hand as it traced up towards the junction between metal and flesh. As she went from augment to skin, he was surprised that the sensation was seamless. Despite what he had expected and cynically told himself, her fingers really felt the same whether it was his original body, or the new prosthetics. Although he could tell her heart was racing, he felt his own pounding more heavily as well. It had been so long since anyone except a detached technician had touched him, that he was unsettled by the feelings it was stirring up.

Freya daringly brought her other hand up to the other shoulder and pressed more firmly, tracing down his arms simultaneously. It was hard to explain - it looked so different and yet it felt so realistic. She passed over his elbows, where her thumbs traced along the circular components that created a hinge. When she reached his hands, she noticed a more distinct difference between the more "muscular" parts of the augments - it was still warm, but the softness diminished. She brought her hands back up and felt along his clavicles and sternum where there were several nodes hooking into his chest wall, likely to lend stability across his frame. She glanced nervously up at him, wondering if he was expecting her to react differently, or was having second thoughts. As she held his gaze, staring into his copper brown eyes swirling with golden apertures, she wished she could read his expression - it was one she had never seen before. Gently he slid one of his hands down around to her waist and the other up towards her face, gently pushing a lock of brown hair back.

Without intending to, she speechlessly commed him, "Why?" She blushed immediately, wishing she hadn't let that slip out.

He smiled gently and pulled her closer, his voice resonating deep inside her, "I wanted to." As she absorbed the gravity of his words, she realized how oblivious she had been. She'd been so worked up over whether he would let her touch him that she never stopped to consider, or hope, that he might feel the same desire for her. As he bent forward, he tilted her head up towards his, his lips just grazing hers. She felt dizzy and took in a quick breath, helpless with anticipation, her hands gently resting on his chest.

In a jarring, unexpected stroke, a surge of grating electric dissonance shot through her brain. She held her head in her hands painfully, taking a step back and falling to her knees. Jensen too was knocked back, but it was worse for him - his optics crashed and his arms and legs seized in searing spasm. It took both their breaths away, and just as suddenly as it came, the glitch passed, though it felt like an eternity. Stifling tears, she coughed reflexively - the surge must have sent an errant signal down her vagus nerve.

"A-are you okay?" she asked, breathing fast and coughing again.

"What the hell was that?" he exclaimed, blinking and frowning as his visual display came back online. He quickly ran to the window and looked down at the street. Even from that distance he could see a few people reeling still, sitting on the sidewalk in a daze.

"It wasn't just us?" she asked. For a split second she had wondered guiltily if it were some kind of interference between the two of them.

"No, it looks like a system wide issue," he said seriously.

"Look, Adam, I don't know what happened, it could have been an isolated glitch but... my gut is telling me..."

"... that you need to investigate this, right?" he finished her thought.

"With everything that is happening, I can't believe that this is unrelated. Illuminati, conspiracies, the Humanity Front connection, now this. It's just..."

He smiled in understanding, saying, "Keep me posted. You keep doing your job, I'll do mine. You take care of the tech, and leave the interrogations and beating evil doctors to a pulp to me."

She laughed and nodded, running her hand through her hair in frustration. It was a shame to be interrupted, especially like that, but at least it was something intriguing. After he pulled on his shirt and jacket, he walked her back to her apartment, his arm around her shoulders. She put her arm around his waist, holding him close for those last few steps. At her door, he paused for a second and kissed her forehead lightly.

"To be continued," he smiled. She nodded and made herself go back into her apartment, trying not to think about whether that would be the last time she saw him.


	8. Old Acquaintances

Once Freya returned to her apartment, still trying to take in what had just happened, she heard an incoming call – it was David Sarif.

"Pritchard, I need you to hack the convention center's security logs. Find out where Sandoval is and let Jensen know."

"Copy that."

Nearly tripping on one of the many wires strewn across her living room, she picked up the nearest computer and looked up the convention center. As she scanned through the files, she saw a log stating that Sandoval had left two hours ago.

"Adam, I checked out the logs where Taggart is speaking – looks like Sandoval left," she informed him.

"Taggart will know where he went…"

"You really think he'll tell _you_, of all people, in the middle of a riot, in front of the media and a crowd of his supporters?" asked Freya incredulously.

"He will if I ask real nice…" answered Adam.

"Well, as persuasive as you are, if that doesn't work, he also has a dressing room backstage. Seems to me a man like Taggart must keep close track of his employees. Oh, and speaking of tracking, remember that back door in our firewall that Sarif opened but 'forgot' to tell us about?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, I was able to track down the private detective he used to get your background check – his name is Brent Radford and he lives on Earl's Court."

"I'll be heading there first, then. I should have enough time."

"If you say so."

Jensen passed several police barricades on his way to the old town apartment buildings. Every half a block there was at least one group of detained protesters cuffed and seated on the asphalt, surrounded by officers with twitchy trigger fingers. _This place is a powder keg waiting to go off…_ Based on his GPS, it looked like Radford's apartment was right next to the one he'd brought Freya to only a few days ago. Freya. He hadn't planned on making a move on her like that. He hadn't even had time to think about how their relationship was evolving, with everything that was going on. He just knew that he felt something good with her and didn't want to let it slip away. It was the first time since the accident that he had let any woman touch him like that, and her eyes…the lightness of her body in his arms…her warmth... The last time he could remember wanting someone like this was when he and Megan were first together. Before she changed.

As he walked past that apartment and towards the one on his virtual map, he saw the door to Radford's apartment ajar. His eyes focused in on the door handle and lock – it had clearly been forced open, and he could hear faint voices in the room. Sneaking carefully, he saw a trail of blood leading to the bathroom, and a well-dressed man aiming a gun at a huddled figure in the corner. Quickly taking the assailant down, Jensen ran to older man lying on the ground. He was bleeding from bullet wounds to his abdomen and legs, but he was still alive and conscious. A quick survey of his wounds indicated he would probably be able to pull through as long as an ambulance got there soon.

"Freya, I located Radford, we need an ambulance here ASAP. Make sure Sarif gets the bill for any augments and neuropozyne he needs."

"Right, I'll call it in. Do you have any leads yet?"

"I'm about to," answered Jensen.

Radford coughed and spit a mouthful of blood onto the linoleum next to him. "No…fucking…augments." Jensen saw a medi-kit around the corner and brought it to Radford, injecting him with a bolus of morphine. It was enough to get him talking a little bit. After some perseverance, Jensen managed to convince him to accept medical aid, even if it meant augmentations, and had a lead to where the investigator had stored his data.

"Freya, he was attacked by men in suits, private security, secret service types. I'm going after them."

"Did you get anything out of Radford?"

"A little, though he wasn't in much condition to speak. Looks like he stored the data he dug up in a storage unit nearby. I'm on my way there now. I'll contact you when I have more."

After a half hour of radio silence from Jensen, his familiar call alert popped up in her head.

"Freya, I need you to assign a temporary security detail to an apartment on Brooklyn Court until I can figure out a more permanent solution. The woman's name is Walters. Michelle Walters."

"A security detail? What on earth for, Jensen? Who is Michelle Walters?" Freya could detect urgency in his voice

"She's family, but she's vulnerable. She rescued me from the fire at White Helix when I was a child. Her memory's pretty shot, but whoever's trying to bury this will definitely think she's a liability. Not a word to Sarif about this. Can I trust you on this, Freya?"

"Of course, Adam. Christ. I might have to call in a few favors, but I'll make it happen."

"Alright, I'm off to the convention center now. And Freya, thanks."

"Anytime," she answered, smiling.

_White Helix? Why does that name ring a bell…_ she thought to herself. Following a hunch, she logged into one of her private hacker networks under her handle Nucl3arsnake. She put the same question to several groups, asking if anyone had heard of White Helix. As she searched through her other routes, including government databases and company rosters, she heard a notification that someone had responded.

**Windmill**: Walk away.

_What the hell? Windmill? The hacker who was responsible for sabotaging us?_

**Nucl3arsnake**: Shouldn't you be hiding in a cave somewhere?

**Windmill**: WH is way too hot. They'll be tracing you now for even typing that.

**Nucl3arsnake**: Who?

**Windmill**: You know who. _*Windmill has signed off*_

Pritchard felt a chill rise up her spine and opened up her network traffic log. Sure enough there were several trackers listed that had appeared in the system less than a minute after she had posted her first query. _Crap…_ She was glad she had chosen to use one of her less often used computers to investigate – she had barely any data on the hard drive and hadn't synced it in months, so hopefully they wouldn't find anything. If it was the Illuminati, there was no use trying to stop them at this point. _White Helix...White Helix..._ Suddenly she remembered one of the emails she had intercepted a few months ago. It was between David Sarif and Hugh Darrow, dated shortly before the attack on HQ 6 months ago.

_Re: Reed's Symposium_

_Hugh, I'm in a real bind here - we're going public of course, Megan is more than ready to present her findings. I just gotta know from you, before we proceed, are we going to get any push back about White Helix? I know that chapter has been closed for a long time, but I gotta know if there was anything else they did to him that'll bite us in the ass. Is there any possibility of fatal permutations or rejection intrinsic to the modifications they made once this gets mass produced? I know Megan's been pushing you to give her access to the clinical trial data, we both know you can get them. There's a lot riding on this - her findings are going to put Sarif Industries in the limelight and don't want there to be any unexpected fallout from this._

_- Sarif_

_Re: Re: Reed's Symposium_

_David, have more faith in me. You have all the information you need. Everything will be taken care of. White Helix is a door better left shut._

_Your friend, Hugh Darrow_

*Beep* "Freya! Get this, the GPLs are still transmitting – Sandoval switched them to a lower frequency," Jensen called in, clearly having just gotten the info out of Sandoval one way or another. She quickly forwarded the emails to Jensen. Now wasn't the time to discuss them.

"But…Adam…they could be broadcasting anywhere in the world. I don't have the type of equipment we'll need to find them," she protested, blown away by the task at hand. If only Sandoval had given some vague location to start with, but just 'the transmitters are still weakly functional?' That didn't give her much to work with.

"It's our only lead Freya, you have to do something," Jensen insisted.

"Okay, I'll see if Sarif has pull with any military or international surveillance groups – we'll need some heavy duty satellites to detect and triangulate their locations…if they're even still functioning…"

"I'll go see him myself."

Jensen called Malik down to the nearest rooftop and had her bring him back to Sarif HQ. The streets were still too thick with rioters to expect him to pass through unnoticed. Even with his stealth augs. The pilot landed them smoothly on the rear helipad, adding, "Hey Jensen, I think there are some bigwigs up there talking to the boss. Maybe you can catch them before they leave." Adam nodded and made his way to David Sarif's penthouse.

When he entered the atrium, there were several heavily armed, augmented men standing at attention. Jensen glanced at each of their faces, cross referencing their markings with groups he might know and came up empty. They didn't seem to care that he was there – they just silently regarded him as he walked towards his boss's office.

"Sarif?" he called out as he pushed the glass door open. Instead of his well-manicured boss at the desk, impatiently tossing a baseball to himself, Adam found the other father of Sarif industries: Hugh Darrow. The man had grey hair, a thick goatee, and a silver, curved crutch that was resting across his lap.

"David's just stepped out for a moment, Mr. Jensen. But do come in. I've been hoping to meet you," Darrow's calm, British voice broke the air. Adam couldn't help but look at him in quiet reverence for a moment as Darrow awkwardly pushed himself to a stand and hobbled around the desk. His right leg had been crushed in an industrial accident years ago, and oddly, instead of an augmentation, he had a top-of-the-line fitted mechanical leg brace. _The father of augmentation still using last decade's tech?_

"Mister Darrow, I'm surprised you even know who I am," said Jensen modestly.

"David speaks very highly of you. He says, that when it comes to detective work, you are like a dog with a bone. Have you found your scientists yet?" he inquired.

"What else did David tell you?" Jensen put his guard up a little. It seemed Hugh Darrow was more involved in the company than Jensen had known.

"Over the years? Plenty. But today I'm here as a friend and fellow scientist. Things are getting quite turbulent out there, wouldn't you agree? So many people, drunk on revolution. The UN being urged to intervene, and all because of the technology I created," he said, almost detached.

"Things have come a long way since then," Jensen reminded him. _Though apparently you haven't noticed, considering you still use a brace and a cane. Unless there's a reason you haven't upgraded._

"Haven't they…and now my old friend David wants me to lead us to the Promised Land. He's asked me to invite members of the UN to Panchaea, to convince them we don't need industry regulation," Darrow continued.

"Your geo-engineering project in the arctic ocean?" asked Jensen. He had heard snippets about this multi-billion dollar installation being built in the middle of the ocean. Eliza had interviewed Darrow several times about it, though Jensen had been too preoccupied lately to pay it much notice.

"The installation couldn't have been built without the assistance of augmented workers. And when it's finished, my little hole in the ocean is going to stop global warming. A lovely photo op, wouldn't you say?"

Jensen didn't like the direction Darrow was heading. Calm, aloof, and cynical…he did not at all come across as a pioneer of world-changing technologies, or even as a philanthropist, as so many called him. He was fronting most of the money for the Panchaea project himself, as Jensen recalled, and he was still considered by many to be one of the brightest minds of the age. But something didn't feel right.

"If it works," Jensen replied.

"You mean, if it doesn't kill us all?" Darrow asked, a touch amusement in his voice. Jensen couldn't quite place it, but it was unsettling.

Behind him, another set of footsteps had approached and stopped in the doorway. "Adam? You're back! Can I, uh, speak to you outside?"

"Sure, Sarif," said Jensen, eager to leave Darrow's company.

Sarif put a hand on his shoulder and seemed to hurry him out of the room, as if to put more distance between Jensen and Darrow. "Get to the Helipad, son. You're going back to Hengsha island. Freya tracked down one of the GPLs. I had to pull strings with the US Department of Defense to do it."

"Whose device is it?" Jensen asked.

"Sevchenko's. But Adam, keep in mind…since I went through the DOD, it's very likely the conspirators will know you're coming. Watch yourself out there."

Jensen nodded and headed back to the helipad. As Malik lifted off, he called Freya, "It's me. Good work with the GPL, we're heading there now. Once we've landed I'll need you to scout things out for me. There's a good chance our enemies are waiting for us."

"On it. Pritchard out."


	9. Return to Hengsha

"Adam, I've been monitoring comm activity around Hengsha. Belltower's looking for you, hard," Pritchard called him, having seen the VTOL signal start heading back from Hengsha.

"I know. They ambushed us, Freya. Forced us to make an emergency landing. Malik barely got away in time!"

"Geez, Adam…But they're supposed to be…" _To think she once recommended they hire Belltower instead of Jensen..._

"The good guys?" Jensen asked sarcastically.

Sighing, Pritchard answered, "Just give them a wide berth, Jensen. If they recognize you, they'll shoot. By the way, have you heard anything about the chip recall?"

"Been a bit busy, Freya," said Jensen, exiting the elevator and entering the alley way into lower Hensha proper. Right as he took a few steps out, another surge hit him and he knelt to the ground, pain shooting through his limbs and scrambling his display. Several people around him were picking themselves up as well and one person had even fallen off a rooftop. Jensen cringed and tested his limbs as his optics flashed back online.

"Ugh, that's what I'm talking about," she started, sounding like she'd experienced the surge as well. "The WHO is advising all augmented patients to check in with LIMB. Apparently that glitch we keep experiencing is related to a faulty neuro chip. So far I still can't determine what that would be, though. I've been messing around with the one we pulled off that Purity perp and I haven't identified anything wrong with the programming or hardware yet," she explained.

"So are you heading to a clinic?" he asked, right as he happened to pass the local LIMB clinic. There was a line of augmented people stretching out the door and down the block, apparently in line for the upgrade.

"No, I'm running a few more tests, first. I'll let you know if I do, but for now…"

"Yeah. Right."

She watched his location arrow on her screen as he went through several different locations in lower Hengsha. Belltower chatter seemed oblivious to his location, though they were certainly keeping an eye out for him. As his signal approached Sevchenko's, she tapped into his video feed. Jensen was approaching a group of hooded men with garish gold limb augments characteristic of the Harvester group in Hengsha. They were a group that would kidnap unsuspecting tourists with fancy augmentations and hack them up for resale on the black market. The flashing blue light stopped and the men parted, revealing the source of the GPL signal. Instead of Dr. Sevchenko, Jensen was approaching a heavily augmented, middle-aged Chinese man with a prominent port wine stain across his face and chest.

"That's far enough, gwai lo," warned the man, his voice carrying a thick Chinese accent.

After he spoke the Harvesters turned around and drew their weapons. The closest one was aiming his revolver straight at Jensen's head. Pritchard was immediately regretting her decision to tap into the feed. She'd almost forgotten how anxious it made her. Without flinching, Jensen gently nudged the revolver aside and stepped forward as the other Harvesters begrudgingly stepped out of his way.

"Tong," Jensen stated simply. _Adam knows this man?_

"You disappoint me, Jensen. I thought we were friends. Then…my hacker goes missing, half my men end up dead, and you don't even have the manners to knock when you enter a room. A lot of Belltower heavies looking for you. Any reason I don't just turn you over?"

"Yeah. Vasili Sevchenko."

"Never touched the stuff," said Tong, apparently thinking it was some illegal drug or good.

"You're wearing his arm. GPL device inside it led me straight to you."

Pritchard gasped – she hadn't even noticed that the left arm they had been soldering to Tong's frame belonged to Sevchenko. Now that she saw it, she felt sick to her stomach, but couldn't look away.

"Scavenged tech…gets you every time," Tong said bitterly. He then shouted something in Chinese which Pritchard took to mean "Everyone else get out of this office." Tong then continued again in English, "Sorry to say the man I got this from wasn't in position to complain. Belltower gave us his corpse a few weeks ago."

"Belltower? Not Tai Yong?" asked Jensen, confused.

"Tai Yong's not the one grabbing people off my streets, then giving me choice augs so I close my eyes."

"Sevchenko had four other scientists with him."

"I'm not wearing any of them, so maybe they still alive. And maybe I help you out with this, since a problem for Belltower keeps them out of my business. I got a pretty good idea where Belltower's been dragging people. Belltower keeps two ships in port. They think nobody notices, but I keep an eye. Every couple days, one of them loads up in the middle of the night and sails out," Tong explained.

"Heading where?"

"A wise man doesn't ask. I just know the Hei Zhen Zhu pulls out tonight. And where she make port, I bet you find your scientists," Tong went on.

"That's a whole lot of maybe, Tong," Jensen said, unimpressed.

"True, but you been lucky more times than I can count."

"Belltower runs tight security. How do you expect me to get on their ship?"

"One of my boys will leave a 'package' inside a locker for you. In an equipment shed. You find it, we talk, and I tell you what to do next."

"I'll be waiting with bated breath, I'm sure."

As Jensen headed out the back alley towards the shipping docks, Pritchard commed in.

"Adam, I don't know about this," she started.

"Listening in are we, Freya?" he asked. It might have bothered him in the past, but now he kind of liked knowing she was there.

"Just when I thought we might have found Sevchenko. Who was that?"

"That was Tong, the leader of the local gang of Triads. He was holding onto van Bruggen before I got him out," Jensen explained.

"Boy, I do not envy your line of work…and I thought my tech support customers were bad," she commented, scouting ahead of him in the shipyard to see what kind of situation he would be dealing with.

"You're in luck, Adam, the building doesn't look too heavily occupied – that shouldn't be too hard to infiltrate, but there are quite a few cams, bots and patrols among the cargo containers. Keep a good 360 degree scan going at all times."

"This isn't my first rodeo, Freya. Why don't you tune out for a bit. I'll radio when I've gotten onto the Hei Zhen Zhu." Jensen knew she was just trying to be helpful, but he could only imagine how difficult it must be to watch him.

Reluctantly, she turned the video feed off and watched his GPL move in a circuitous pattern around the docks to the shed Tong must have told him about. After a brief pause, his signal moved into the building and stopped in the upper right corner office. Suddenly she got an alert that his vital signs had taken a huge hit and his signal appeared to drop about twenty feet. Several of the power grid nodes in the building turned off in a pattern originating from the room Jensen had just exited, and nearly all the patrol signals were closing in on his location.

"Adam? Are you okay?" she commed him, watching his signal moving erratically toward one of the crates on the deck.

"Yeah… just a close call. Tong's distraction had a shorter fuse than he let on. Plan is to stow away in one of the stasis pods until they get unloaded at their destination, wherever that is. I'll be going off the grid for a while. Not sure how long."

"Do you have even the faintest idea where you're heading? It'll help me pick you back up when you're online again."

"Hell if I know, Freya. Hell if I know. Jensen out."


	10. The Search is Over

Freya was pacing in her office, unable to focus on her systems maintenance tasks. It had been days since Jensen had last checked in, and even his GPL was off the grid. Sarif had been worried as well, when she notified him.

"So you have no idea how long he'll be gone?" he had asked numerous times when she gave him her daily report in his office.

"No, boss. I wish I did," she said, honestly.

Sarif frowned and stood up from his desk, pacing around it. He had the latest scores from the match between the Detroit Tigers and the White Sox displayed on his big screen TV. The Tigers had taken quite a hit, so Sarif was probably in a bad mood already. He paced around to the window and stared down at the furor below. Across the horizon there were several plumes of smoke rising between the buildings - fires started in the riots by Humanity Front protestors. Sarif rocked his weight back and forth on his feet and crossed his arms behind him, one hand clenching the other wrist tightly.

"I'll be leaving tonight for the ribbon cutting ceremony at Panchaea," he informed her. "I'm leaving Athene in charge as my proxy for the time being. Make sure the place doesn't fall apart in my absence."

"Of course, boss," she answered.

"And as always, let me know the moment you get word from Adam. He's never been MIA this long," he worried, pacing back across the room.

"I'll let you know, though Panchaea is surrounded by dead spots, since it's in the middle of the ocean, so it might be hard to get in contact with you. Just so you know."

"Just do the best you can," Sarif said. "That's all for now."

That was the third day without any news from Adam. When she couldn't stand being in the Tech Lab any longer, she walked out back to the helipad. She could still hear the protesters out front, but fresh air trumped the ruckus. Malik's VTOL was on the pad, most of its repairs completed since it returned from Hengsha. As usual, Malik was leaning against the open cockpit door, her lithe frame bent back slightly and her arms and legs crossed. Freya and Malik were both fairly unimaginative in the way they dressed, opting for the company issued orange and silver uniforms rather than anything they picked out themselves, though Malik's was a proper flight suit. Freya didn't talk to Malik too often, but she needed to take her mind off of waiting for Jensen's comm signal.

"Hey, Faridah," she said.

"Hey, Freya, any news from Jensen?" asked Malik, obviously concerned as well.

"No, not yet. I'm sure he'll turn up soon, though…" Freya tried to reassure Malik, as well as herself.

"He's gotten out of tight situations before. Hell, he was able to hold off an entire battalion while my bird was down," she said encouragingly, obviously recollecting the ambush by Belltower in Hengsha.

"I'm glad he didn't tell me about that until afterwards. I can't let myself think about all the dangerous situations he gets into. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night," she admitted.

Malik grinned knowingly and Freya defensively added, "Well, we all worry, don't we?"

Laughing, Malik answered, "Well, yeah, but I'm kind of his pilot. I'm the one who has to fly into those dangerous situations and extract him."

"Right. So what time are you going to Chiron tonight?" Malik had the less than glorious task of ferrying employees to and from Sarif HQ, considering the riots had shut down most of the streets in and around the building. Several people even refused to come in, convinced that at any moment the police barricade would break down and the protesters would come crashing in through the glass doors. Freya wasn't without her concerns, but most of her equipment was on site, as were the machines Sarif paid her to maintain.

"About…" she checked her leather banded analog wrist watch, "35 minutes from now."

"Okay. Don't leave without me," Freya said as she turned back towards the building._At least I can busy myself with packing things up…_

When she finally reached her apartment, she spread her stuff out on the floor. She didn't have time to go to the store these days, what with the riots, so she was living off the stacks of noodle cups in her pantry. She filled the Styrofoam cup up to the fill line and set it in the microwave. Freya couldn't stop thinking about the last time she was with Adam and the look in his eyes as he held her. He was always so serious and aloof, keeping people at arm's distance, and yet... She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around herself, eyes shut, trying to remember what his touch felt like. Something had certainly changed between them, but would they even have a chance to see what that was? The beeping of the microwave broke her thoughts and she took out the cup and set it on the counter. She didn't feel particularly hungry, but knew she had to get something in her if she was going to keep up her energy level. As she leaned over the sink, she was jolted alert by an incoming comm alert.

"Freya, any chance you're still there?" a familiar deep voice played in her head.

"Adam? My god, you've been offline for days! Where the hell are you?" she asked, elated. Words couldn't express how good it felt to hear his voice.

"I was hoping you'd tell me," he said. Freya couldn't see his face, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

"One second, I'm pinging you … now..." she said as she fumbled with the nearest laptop and accessed her GPL monitoring system. "You're in… Singapore?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" asked Jensen, half joking.

"You're in Singapore. What's been going on?" she pressed him.

"A lot. I don't have much time to explain, but I ended up at a Belltower base in the middle of the ocean where they've been developing components for the Hyron project, which is a supercomputer that Darrow's been working on. The thing is, the components include living human beings. Specifically females who are genetically compatible with having their entire central nervous system hooked up to a machine to serve as wet processor units."

"Good god…that's horrific…" she exclaimed.

"Luckily I ran into an undercover Interpol agent. I managed to get everyone out, so one of the scientists should be on her way to expose them, provided no one in the Illuminati or Belltower gets to her first. In the meantime though, we need to track down Megan and her team."

"Wait, what does the Hyron project have to do with the kidnapping? How did you end up there?"

"Like you heard Tong, girls have been disappearing all over lower Hengsha, and there were several from Australia as well. The boat carries them as cargo to this facility where after they undergo severe testing, the few that survive get their spines and skulls split open and permanently jacked into the Hyron interface. I hope I'm wrong, but it looks like Megan has been working with their scientists to develop the biochip interface for the supercomputer in addition to the newest neural chip. And Hugh Darrow, well, I guess he's not quite the humanitarian we thought he was. Have you been able to pick up any of their GPLs?"

"Yes, I now have a total of four GPL signals on the screen, including yours. The others are Koss, Colvin, and Faherty. I'm not picking up Dr. Reed…"

"Send me the coordinates you do have. And Freya, tell Sarif."

"I can't. While you were incommunicado, Mr. Darrow invited him, Bill Taggart and the UN delegates to Panchaea. He's on his way to the Arctic right now."

"Great…whatever Darrow has planned, I can't imagine it's good. Try to get a message through to them, or anyone you can in Panchaea."

"I'll do my best, Pritchard out."

The first person she commed was Malik.

"Freya, have you heard anything?" she asked expectantly.

"Yes. Jensen just popped up in Singapore. I'm sending you his coordinates. You better fuel up and head over there as soon as you can. We've tracked down Koss, Colven, and Faherty's GPLs as well."

"Fueling as we speak. No word on Dr. Reed?"

"Not yet," Freya answered. "Have you been able to contact Sarif at all since he left?"

"No, I think they're already in stasis. You know how the big wigs like to fly."

_Great. If they're suspended in stasis pods, there's no way my signals will reach them._Freya tried to further identify the facility that Jensen was currently navigating. She had to resort to an aerial satellite view since it was a clandestine facility that operated under the radar. Omega Ranch. She remembered that the facility was a biotech corporation from an article she'd read about the H5N1 epidemic of 2018. Apparently at that time they were modifying the H5N1 influenza virus and someone broke protocol, resulting in an epidemic that killed tens of thousands of people.

About an hour later, she finally got another communication from Jensen.

"Freya, are you still tracking the scientists?"

"Of course I am."

"I need you to simulate feedback along that route. Make it strong enough to vibrate their implants. They have to feel it."

"Having them coordinate a signal, eh? Not bad, Jensen. I'm sending it now."

Jensen crouched as the security bots and Belltower guards ran away from his location and to the source of the coordinated disturbances set off by the three scientists he'd contacted. Once it was clear, he headed down into the lower levels. When he reached an open room, he detected two life signs, both somewhere at the center of an unusual exhibit. Throughout the room on square pedestals were muscular preserved cadavers fitted with animatronics to reproduce classic poses from Vesalius, the anatomist.

"Your tenacity, Adam Jensen, is really quite irritating. We'd like you to stop now," started a familiar woman's voice.

"I'm afraid I can't Zhao. You see, I figured it out. I know what you and your conspiracy buddies are planning," he started, slowly approaching her.

"Do you? How clever," she smiled mockingly.

"A new biochip. A software upgrade that limits what augmentations can do. You're creating a kill switch. You kidnapped Megan Reed's team to do it, and you're seizing control of the market to ensure it gets distributed. All because you're afraid of people like me, augmented people with the power to resist you."

"No one's afraid of you Mr Jensen. All your blundering around and childish interference hasn't stopped a thing – tell me, have you been to a LIMB clinic lately?" she asked, holding up a remote controlled trigger of some kind. When she pressed the button, a horrified expression came across her face.

"Let me guess, that was supposed to shut me down, right? Leave me broken and begging?"

"The augs were recalled! You should be offline!" she shouted, panicking. As she turned and ran in the opposite direction, another life sign came hurtling towards him. It was the heavily augmented Namir, who had left him for dead during the initial invasion. He nearly completely blended in among the cadavers with his muscle-colored augments.

"You should have stayed dead, Jensen," he shouted, pinning him against a wall. Jensen quickly activated his Typhoon system and shot explosive rounds in every direction, creating a sphere of dust around him. Namir had jumped back just fast enough to dodge the brunt of that attack and was ready to come back in for the counter attack during the recharge phase. Anticipating this, Jensen raced across the room, hiding behind one of the pedestals. Jensen heard the distinct sound of Namir's cloaking device activating and activated his own enhanced visual array. He could easily see Namir's figure cautiously stalking along the wall, looking for him. Jensen changed out his weapon to the revolver, fully upgraded with explosive rounds, and sprang around the corner behind Namir. He fired off six rounds in quick succession, each sending Namir stumbling forward. Before Jensen could step aside again, Namir had charged him and slammed him into the ground. The tile floor caved in where Jensen was being hit, cracking under the force. Jensen blocked and drew out his retractable arm blades, quickly slicing upwards and catching Namir's face and neck, severing several arteries. The hulking warrior fell backwards and Jensen had the upper hand, kneeling on top of him with a blade at his throat.

Namir coughed up some blood and uttered, "Finish it." He still maintained an emotionless expression, even moments from death.

"Not until you tell me where Megan is," Jensen demanded.

"You've lost her, Jensen," Namir said, coughing a few more times. "Men like us? We never get back the things we love."

As he finished that sentence, Namir breathed his last breath and fell silent, his head falling to the side. Clenching his fist, Jensen punched the ground beside Namir and stood up angrily, heading towards the only other door besides the one he had come through. Somehow Jensen was rattled by what Namir had said – it was almost lamenting, commiserating. It was one of the last things he would have expected from Namir. It would be touching in its humanness if it didn't sound so ominous. As he went up the stairs, the color scheme transitioned dramatically. Where it had been dimly lit and filled with mechanized cadavers below, he was now entering a completely white hallway. The sterile, spacious path was a stark contrast to everything he'd encountered thus far. It led to a pair of double doors. Behind the doors he could sense a single life force signal. Slowly, he reached for the door handle and turned it, making each move with careful deliberation. He didn't know what he would do when he saw her.

When he opened the doors and stepped forward, he came into an enormous room, just as pristine and white as the hallway he'd passed through. It was almost blinding. There was a king size bed to the left, and to the right were several bookshelves and electronic screens with news feeds and data dancing across them. Facing away from him, standing to the side of the desk, was Megan Reed, the woman he once loved. All thoughts of rescuing her from some inhuman place vanished when he saw where she was, seemingly carefree.

He heard Megan's sweet, gentle voice call out, without turning around, "Jaron? Is that you?"

For a split second, Jensen faltered in his steps. How could she be addressing Jaron Namir in so friendly and casual a manner? Jaron Namir, who for all she knew had murdered Jensen 6 months ago?

"Not exactly," he said, all warmth gone from his voice.

"Adam? Oh my God," she exclaimed, her eyes immediately falling on his augments. She practically recoiled. "Adam, it's you." She saw several scratches and bleeding cuts on his chest and neck that he had sustained in his battle with Namir. "You're hurt. What happened?" She asked as if she couldn't fathom that he had fought tooth and nail through hundreds of armed guards, the Triad, and the mercenaries who had kidnapped her. All to find her and the team.

"What happened to _you_? I risked my life for you, Megan. I came halfway around the world and for what?"

"It's not what you think!" she cried defensively.

"Well it _looks_ like you've got a pretty nice 'cell,' and don't seem to mind chumming it up with the man who brutally murdered me, or would have if not for Sarif's intervention. Are you a part of this?" he demanded angrily.

"No! No, Adam, I swear it! The kidnapping was real, the attack on Sarif industries. They came after _me_. They wanted my research."

"And when did you decide they could have it?" he asked coldly, his eyes hard.

"It didn't happen like that. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't! I couldn't! And then David said we had to use it, that we owed it to mankind," she explained, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"David? What are you talking about?" asked Jensen.

"My 'great discovery,' the genetic framework I found that makes it easier for living tissue to bond with implants and would end augment rejection syndrome as we know it. I found it in you, Adam. I used your DNA," she said, not meeting his eyes, her tone filled with genuine regret.

"Save it Megan, I know all about that," he informed her dispassionately.

"What? How?" she asked, shocked.

"Freya found enough info in the system for it to be the logical conclusion. When did you first find out that I might have 'special' DNA? Was it before we even met? Is that how we started?"

"No! It was after. I got an anonymous email, telling me that the answer I was looking for was right in front of my eyes, that your DNA held the key to saving humanity."

"An anonymous email? Must have been the Illuminati or at least someone who knew about White Helix…and you just blindly followed that tip, without even talking to me about it."

"I wanted to tell you, I swear! David convinced me what it could mean for mankind, how much better off we could all be. It took Hugh to make me see how wrong I was."

"Hugh? Hugh Darrow?" Jensen perked up, the entire web Darrow had weaved suddenly coming together. The Hyron project, the Belltower facility, the neuro chip recall, Panchaea. The common links were Megan and Darrow and some sinister purpose.

"He owns this facility. After Namir brought us here…"

"Freya, Patch me in to Sarif. Now," Jensen commanded, hoping he hadn't lost her signal when she came down there. They hadn't been able to access Megan's GPL before, so he wasn't sure he'd get through.

To his relief, he heard her voice immediately reply, "I'll try, but there's a lot of interference – "

"Adam, please. Hugh's only _pretending_ to work with Tai Yong and the others. He found out what they were planning and told them he would help but only to make sure they never succeeded. Their control signal won't work," Megan begged, trying to justify her complicity. Was she really so foolish to believe that Darrow had the best interests of mankind in mind?

"Did he also tell you about the Hyron project? And the hundreds of kidnapped women they've experimented upon, mutilated, and used as wet processors for a super computer? I know you've been working with them," he accused.

Megan stepped back, her face fallen flat. It was clear she didn't think he had known about that. "If…if I hadn't, then they would have killed even more people trying to achieve their goals! By making it more streamlined, more efficient, they wouldn't have to go through as many test subjects…"

"Megan, no matter how you try to justify this to yourself, you've enabled all of this to happen. Everything that happens from here on out, is on _your_ hands."

None of his words were reaching her. She was still playing the victim. Suddenly, across the television screen, Eliza Cassan announced that Hugh Darrow was stepping up to make his opening remarks.

"Thank you for that wonderful introduction, David," said Darrow, looking to his right where David Sarif was standing. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Sarif here has asked me to show the world how human enhancement technology can change it. After careful deliberation, I've decided I must do exactly that." There was a brief pause and he seemed to withdraw a small device from his coat. "Forgive me," he said solemnly.

The moment he finished speaking, the crowd erupted into terrified screams. People were clawing at their heads and running aimlessly in every direction. Some even latched on to the person nearest to them and began pounding their skull into the concrete until blood sprayed across the floor. The news camera that was focused on Hugh Darrow toppled to the ground and caught a horrifying side view of the ensuing chaos.

"Oh god," Megan gasped, hardly able to believe her eyes. "He's modified the control signal. Anyone with a new biochip will be affected. Hugh never said anything about this."

"So this is happening all over the world?" he asked, panicked. "Freya? Freya, come in."

When the comm answered, he heard crashing noises and screams in the background. Freya's voice barely made it through the din, "Adam I can't…I…" The audio seemed to dissolve into a steady static crackle without discernible words coming through.

"Freya, come on, let me know you're okay," he spoke aloud into the comm, waiting for her to answer him. "Goddamnit, come on Freya," he cursed, kicking the metal filing drawers next to him. _She couldn't have gotten the neuro chip, she said she was looking into it. She's smart enough, she must have known there was something fishy about it. But what if she's in a crowd with augs going insane? What if they're tearing her apart right now?_

"Adam, I'm sorry…" Megan started, stepping closer to him. She slowly reached out to put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"Stay away from me, don't touch me!" he snarled at her. She jumped backwards, appearing hurt by his outburst. Adam thought he knew what it meant to loathe a person. He thought that he had hated Namir, the man who took his former life away. But Megan…she had brought it to a whole new level. _I thought I'd lost Megan years ago, but it turns out she was never the person I thought she was to begin with. And now, what if…_

"Freya…" he held the edge of the table, his artificial fingers digging into it like styrofoam.

".. A… Adam, are you there?" Freya's voice pierced through the field of static.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Jensen asked, relief pouring through him.

"I'm fine, Adam, but a lot of people just went berserk at HQ. I had to lock my office and barricade myself inside. I think I'm safe for now…" she said unsurely.

"It's a good thing you didn't get that neural chip…"

"And you. Adam, Malik's on her way. I alerted her shortly after you came back on the grid. She'll be at your location in about 20 minutes."

"I'm going back for the scientists," he informed her.

"Let me help, Adam," offered Megan.

"I didn't say you were coming. You look quite comfortable right here," he glared at her.

Taking an indignant stance, Megan said, "Adam, look, you might not believe me but I HAVE been a prisoner here, too, and I know the complex better than you. It'll be faster if _I_ go find them. We can't waste time arguing about this. There's a hangar bay through there. Get to its control room and retract the roof. Clear a path for us. There are probably affected augmented security guards in there."

Cursing silently he turned and headed towards the hangar bay. She was right, arguing wouldn't do any good, and time was of the essence.

"Malik, I'm heading for a hangar bay to open the roof. I'll need an emergency extraction."

"Roger that, I'm about 15 minutes out from your location."

Jensen managed to sneak into the control room and got to work hacking the computer station. Once online, he initiated the bay doors mechanisms to retract the roof and disabled the nearby turrets. No sooner had the ceiling access been opened, than Malik's VTOL descended into the bay.

"Hey Jensen! Looks like you could use some help!" Malik exclaimed, dropping several grenades from the plane and eliminating all the frenzied Belltower guards on the platform.

"Thanks, Malik," Jensen said, stepping away from the control tower monitor.

"I see the scientists, Jensen. I'm landing nearby and I think – Doctor Reed wants to speak to you. Hang on."

There was a slight pause and Jensen clenched his jaw as he watched her guide the others into the VTOL and start lifting off.

"Hello? Adam? We're all fine, but you have to get to Panchaea and stop Hugh. You have to stop the broadcast. I think it's causing the new biochips to overstimulate the vagus nerve, creating terrifying hallucinations."

"You mean it's driving augmented people insane."

"Yes, and it's up to you to stop it. Use the LEO shuttle, it'll take you to Panchaea. Good luck, Adam. I know it doesn't mean much now, but for what it's worth, I _am_ sorry."

Jensen didn't reply. On the other station in the tower, he activated the LEO shuttle's launch system and input the coordinates for the Panchaea project. Once he hit the launch button, a 5 minute countdown began. Running across to the far side of the bay, he slipped into the small pod and strapped himself in.

"Freya, can you see what's going on at Panchaea?"

"I'm trying, the signal being generated there is making it difficult…" she answered.

"Listen, I'm going to take a low earth orbit shuttle to get to Panchaea. I'll contact you once I land."

"You better get there in one piece, Adam. I won't forgive you if you burn up on reentry," she warned him.

Moments later, a deafening rumble erupted beneath the shuttle and he shot straight up into the sky towards the sun. Several gauges appeared on the dashboard showing the level of the horizon as he shot above it and just beyond the atmosphere. For a moment, he felt weightless in the cockpit and amazed at the sight he was beholding. He never expected he would ever see the earth from space, so blue and beautiful from afar. Almost as soon as they had reached low earth orbit, the nose of the shuttle tipped downward and targeted in on a small point in the Arctic Ocean. Once it was in position, the craft started hurtling down at astonishing speeds, the re-entry creating a fireball around him. Just before landing, he was alerted to a failure of some kind and started unbuckling himself. He might have to bail out in midair.


	11. Panchaea

As Jensen's Icarus system landed him safely on the deck of the giant Arctic installation, he heard the familiar comm indicator.

"Jensen? Jensen can you read me?" asked Pritchard, having just seen his GPL signal light up over Panchaea.

"Barely. I've reached Panchaea, Freya. Any word from Sarif or the UN delegates?" he asked, trying to get some kind of assessment of the situation. There was no telling what he would encounter in there.

"Nothing. It looks like the installation went into lockdown shortly after Darrow gave his speech, so I can't get any readings. I can't even tell if anyone's alive down there. And the signal is still broadcasting."

"Meaning no one's safe 'til I get in there and shut it down"

"You'll have to disengage the lockdown first. Look for a master control panel at the top of the tower. The schematics show a short cut through one of the middle vents in a concrete cylinder outside."

"Thanks. Stay on the line, I don't know what I'm coming up against yet."

"Copy that."

Freya caught a brief glimpse of the deck. Whirls of snow flurries blowing past isolated fires and heavy machinery, before the video cut out. She was still sitting under her desk, which she had pressed close up to glass doors of the Tech Lab. They normally opened automatically but she had activated the emergency lock. She leaned her back up against the inside face of the back of the desk Every so often she would freeze as awkward, languid footsteps sounded outside the door. Occasionally she heard a loud banging on the glass, but they usually stopped after the first two or three pounds.

Within a short amount of time, she heard Jensen call her.

"Okay, Freya, I'm just outside the main room where Darrow gave his speech. The lockdown controller should be in here."

"Have you seen any affected augs?" she asked nervously.

"Not that many, something must have drawn most of them off…"

She watched as he jumped through a broken window into the room where Darrow gave his short opening speech before activating the signal. As Jensen's view panned around the room, it finally came to rest on the elderly Nobel laureate. Hugh Darrow was seated in front of his podium, his silver walking stick, now bloodstained, resting across his lap as usual. Despite its functionality as a mobility aid, it came to a sharp point on one end and had clearly been expertly used against the some raging augs. Under his feet there was a pool of blood gathering from several of the bodies nearby. Jensen turned toward the lockdown switch, a red square button on the dashboard to the left.

"I don't think you want to do that, Mr Jensen," warned Darrow . "Disengage lockdown, and whatever demons this station contains are likely to come crashing out on us."

"Afraid to die, Darrow? Or just unwilling to face what you've done?" accused Jensen.

"Oh, I know what I've done, believe me, I take no pleasure in it," said Darrow solemnly. He had the demeanor of a martyr, as if he were taking this sinful path to cleanse humanity.

"And yet you still did it."

"I did what had to be done. Twenty years ago I gave the world augmentation technology. I thought I was giving it a bright future but instead I gave it the means to destroy itself. No law, no UN regulation was going to fix that."

"People are dying out there, hundreds of thousands of people, driven to the brink of insanity because of you."

"I had to convince the world. Before today people, believed we should steal fire from the gods and redesign human nature. But human nature is the only thing we have that gives us a moral compass, and the social skills we need to live in peace. Destroy it and you destroy our very species."

"Don't paint yourself a savior in this. What you're doing is insane."

"Is it? When this is done, the Illuminati won't be able to control men and women like you, as they had planned – from the inside out. No one will be able to use the technology I invented to make others into beings they desire. Something we both know has happened already."

Jensen stifled the anger that flared up when he reminded Jensen how he had been used by his boss, by Megan. "You think you're Frankenstein, killing his own monster."

"Actually Mr. Jensen, I prefer to think of myself as Daedalus, watching helplessly as his child crashes into the sea," Darrow said, staring out thoughtfully over the icy Arctic ocean.

"I'm ending this, now."

"You can't. The signal is being generated from the broadcast center at the base of this facility. Panchaea's security system has been programmed to protect it and will kill you before you even get close."

"You designed that system, Darrow. You can tell me how to shut it down," Jensen reasoned.

"But I won't. You think what I'm doing is extreme, but you simply don't understand. For humanity to survive beyond this century it must abandon ill-conceived notions about transcendence and embrace change. But for that to happen the hard lesson must be learned. Blood must be shed," said Darrow resolutely.

"Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong. None of it matters because this is what will happen now. After today whatever you say will be dismissed as the ravings of a mass murderer, you were one of the greatest minds of our time and tomorrow you'll be nothing but a killer."

"I have shown the world the worst of itself, Mr. Jensen," he proclaimed stoically. "As long as people understand that, what they say of me doesn't matter. History shows us that every measured reasonable approach to a global problem has failed, mired in apathy and inaction. Taggart would have us sit and debate while people like you continue to radically and fundamentally tear at the fabric of society. You'll never freely give up your augmentations and your lust for superiority will destroy us all."

All this hatred for augmented people. Jensen glanced down at the obvious metal brace on Darrow's right leg. "You know I've always wondered about that leg brace of yours. Why the father of augmentation doesn't have the most basic of implants. Doesn't make much sense, really. Unless he's one of the few people genetically incompatible with this technology. Gotta love the irony in that. It's the kind of irony that can tear you up inside, bit by bit, every day, until you find yourself despising what you're not."

"How dare you!" Darrow shouted, clearly Jensen had touched a nerve. "You think I've done all this because… because a fluke of nature robbed me of my chance to become a part of it? I tried everything, damn you! Everything I could think to change, none of it worked, none of it." Darrow's tone was rising and he was pacing angrily, losing his normally calm, measured composure.

_Just push it a little further. _"So you had to fix it, didn't you? Take back control. Make it like it never was."

"Yes, yes that's exactly what I – what I…" Darrow trailed off, the reality of his motives and the atrocities he had caused finally dawning on him. "Oh god, what have I done?"

"Give me the codes Darrow. Help me stop this," Jensen urged him, holding his hand out for the controls.

"You'll still be in danger," Darrow said, tossing Jensen the codes. "Panchaea's security system, much of it, is self-determining and lethal. But if you succeed, if those codes help you turn off the system and you reach the broadcast center, tell the world exactly why I did it. Explain to them about the Illuminati, the biochip, Panchaea. Help them understand that the technology I created will not be a future any one of us desires."

Jensen turned to leave and called Pritchard, "Freya, the lockdown's disengaged. I'm heading back to the hangar to see if those blast doors are still open. Have you been able to raise anyone?"

"I'm picking up several glimmers. I think they're still alive, but there's too much interference for me to pin down their locations. I – I think you're on your own. Watch out for berzerked augs, I see dozens of erratic signals throughout the facility."

"Thanks, Freya."

Jensen made his way back out through the halls, which were slowly filling with confused, wandering augmented guests and workers. He was able to remain in stealth mode most of the way, but the augs jumped at every little sound. Many were talking to themselves and jerking their arms and heads erratically. The way they spoke was harrowing - fast speech patterns, babbling at hallucinations, sometimes nonsensical growling. Once Jensen was back outside, he made his way across the walkways to the part of the building with the servers, machine rooms, and broadcasting levels. As he went through the halls, he picked up broadcasts for help from Sarif in the machine room. The way appeared blocked until Jensen spied an air duct in the left upper corner of one of the rooms. On the other end, he could see Sarif through the grates, pacing beside a large pool of aquamarine water.

When Adam stepped out of the ducts, a few people started but when they saw he was behaving normally, they relaxed. The boss approached him, looking relieved.

"Adam?! Oh thank god you came. I've got wounded here. We'll have to move them first," he said with urgency.

"We can't move anyone yet. Not until I get to the base of the station and shut down Darrow's broadcast," answered Jensen.

"What? Wh-why?" asked Sarif, who apparently thought this was an isolated catastrophe.

"The chaos you experienced here is everywhere. The Illuminati created a biochip that stops people from using enhanced abilities, and Darrow turned it into a kill switch," Jensen explained.

"Ah, my god, Hugh, what have you done…We've got to fix this, Adam. If people realize what's happened, if they believe augmentation technology created this chaos…they'll ban human enhancement research forever! You have to send out a broadcast, maybe we can pin it on the Humanity Front."

"Don't people deserve to know the truth?" asked Jensen. "I know I would have liked that."

"Adam…"

"You've got no remorse about using me at all, do you?" Jensen approached the subject directly, he was tired of not having all the answers.

"I never used you, son," Sarif insisted weakly.

"You experimented with my DNA, without telling me," Jensen stated plainly. Honestly it didn't get much more black and white than that.

"Ahh, Adam this is difficult – listen, Megan – Megan came to me with the sample. When she showed me her findings, when I saw...when _we_ saw the incredible potential of super compatibility…"

"…you just had to share it with the world," Adam finished Sarif's thought grimly.

"Adam, think about it. Would you have been able to do any of the things you've done without enhancements? Huh? Most people's bodies aren't as accepting of this technology as yours is. Sharing your DNA makes it possible for us to be like you. How can you deny us that chance?"

"Who said I would deny it? You and Megan stole my DNA and lied to me. You didn't give me the choice!"

"Well, I'm giving it to you now, Adam. Look, I admit it, I haven't done things the best way, but don't punish the world to spite me. Darrow wants us to live in the Dark Ages, the Illuminati want to limit evolution to those they control. You and me – we…"

"Don't group me with you, Sarif. I'll make my own choices from here," said Jensen, turning away and quickly scanning the survivors in the room for critical injuries. It didn't look like anyone was in too dire straits, so he felt comfortable moving on.

Freya was tracking Jensen's progress – he was nearly to the source of the signal. His GPL was now slowly descending into the base of the project, about 1000 meters. While she kept tabs on him, she started sending out calls to some of their pilots, as well as Malik. She hoped at least some of them had not gotten the chip upgrade. After relaying the coordinates to as many as she could, she checked on Adam's progress. It looked like he was entering the bowels of the Hyron project.

"Freya, are you copying this?" he asked suddenly.

She activated the video feed and saw he was bending over one of several pods on a central processing core, which was at least as wide as a car and stretched as up tens of feet to the high ceiling. Wires flowed out from the core, both on the ground and along the ceiling, with pulsing red glows running along certain portions. Within the pod in front of Jensen, she could see a person, a woman. She was wrapped from head to toe in electroconductive white strips, and thick black cables were connected at every level of her spine.

"Where am I? So cold. I don't remember. Let me go! Oh god, please help me, I'm scared!" the girl said, not seeming aware of her surroundings, her voice in sync with the women in the other pods. Their simultaneous speech gave each voice a harmonizing echo which sent chills down her spine.

"Good god Adam, I mean you told me what you'd seen on the Belltower station, but… this is…" she trailed off, no words seemed to suffice for such ruthless disregard for human life.

"Horrific. I know," he said solemnly, his eyes finding a terminal beside her pod that would release her from the system using Darrow's code.

"Jensen, behind you," warned Freya, picking up a signal.

When he turned, she could see Zhao, in one of the same electroconductive suits as the woman in the pod.

"Zhao, what are you doing?" Jensen shouted.

"I'm going to interface with the Hyron project mainframe and force Hugh's signal to stop. _Somebody_ has to! And I know I sure don't trust you to do it right. After all, I'm still responsible for protecting our group's interests..." she said, standing in the Hyron's main access point and letting it raise her slowly off the ground. The connecting prongs came down and penetrated the ports along her spine and the base of her skull. She let out a high pitched scream and then seemed to struggle in the machine's grip.

"Ah…no, the system won't recognize my chip! I can't control it!" Zhao's voice joined the screams of pain of the women in the pods behind him. The Hyron project seemed to be rerouting its power to an auto-defense system.

"Zhao, get them out of there! I have to reach the Control Chamber!"

"No, I can still control it! I'm in control!" she insisted, writhing in pain as she fought with the Hyron project's barriers.

While she was still occupied, Jensen quickly raced to each of the terminals at the base of the central processor and input Darrow's code. When he reached the final terminal, the women in the pods were released from the array. Right as he took a step back, the mounted turrets and electrical floor system activated, sending a rain of bullets in his direction along with painful electric shocks. Even though he had an electric field stabilization upgrade, the sheer power of these surges were making his leg augments seize up uncomfortably. He managed to withdraw to the doorway, Zhao barely visible from his vantage point.

"Jensen, based on what I've seen here, if you take out Zhao, it'll cause the system to go back to its default mode – the defense system should deactivate."

"I might be able to snipe her from here…" he said, pulling out his scoped rifle. Taking aim, he fired shot after shot, aiming for her head. She was considerably augmented so she had intracranial shielding that was protecting her from his shots, but after a couple clips it was enough. The turrets abruptly stopped in their rapid rotations around the central tower and the glowing sparks on the floor dissipated. Over where Zhao was hanging from the mainframe access point, visible energy surges were funneling into her. The Hyron project was reacting to her damaged nervous system as if she were a frayed wire, releasing heat from her spine into her surrounding body. She was still alive and her cries reached a shrill, agonizing pitch as she absorbed so much energy she began to glow bright white. Suddenly, there was a huge burst of energy which threw Jensen back into the central unit, cracking the black outer case. When he pulled himself up and went to examine Zhao, her body had been reduced to a blackened charred corpse.

"Are you alright, Adam?" asked Freya.

"Yeah, can't say the same for Zhao, though," stepping around her smoking remains.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, following his view as he walked down the hall to the Control Chamber to deactivate the signal.

"The world has to know the truth. It's the only way to move forward from here. I'll just give them the facts. No narrative, just information. People need to come to their own conclusions. I think they'll come to the right ones."

"Good luck, Adam. I've got several VTOLs en route, including Malik. She wasn't able to get back here with the scientists, but we need everyone we can get, so she's got them in tow. They'll all be circling until the signal stops and then they'll land and start the rescue process."

"Thanks, Freya. I'll see you soon," he said, disappearing into the signal control room where Eliza Cassan was waiting for him, to prepare a message for the world.


	12. As the Dust Settles

*Warning - Explicit Content*

Back at Sarif HQ, Freya was still hiding under her desk, watching everyone outside through the intellicams. As she was keeping an eye on several confused augmented employees, still battling the effects of the signal, she saw them abruptly stop. They looked around in a daze, but with cognition and more control of their faculties.

_Is it over?_

Freya cautiously peeked over the top of her desk, and pulled it back to its former position in the Tech Lab. She slowly deactivated the emergency lock and stepped out into the open. There were no screams, no one running aimlessly. It seemed the crisis had passed.

She saw several people bleeding in the lobby and ran back into her office to find a first aid kit when Eliza Cassan suddenly popped up on the screen.

"May I have your attention, please, everyone. This is Eliza Cassan, preparing to report to you everything that has happened. The how and why of it all. Many of you have recently experienced symptoms of disorientation, rage, violence, and lack of control. This was caused by a signal released by Hugh Darrow from his Panchaea installation, targeting those of you with the recent bio chip released from the LIMB clinics. What you do not know is that this chip was originally designed by an…"

As she spoke, her face flickered. A confused expression crossed her face along with an apologetic look in her eyes and she continued.

"…by Tai Yong Medical CEO Zhao Yun Ru. She coordinated an elaborate plot which involved kidnapping many individuals and subjecting them to torture and manipulation to turn them into components of the most powerful computer processor in history. The bio chip upgrade and the Hyron computer processor were only made possible through the kidnapping and detaining of several prominent scientists who were forced to work under threat of torture and death."

As Eliza continued, Freya was confused. _I thought Jensen was going to reveal the presence of the Illuminati as the masterminds behind this attack? Maybe the Illuminati intercepted Jensen's message – after all, they ultimately control Eliza…_

Pritchard pulled herself away from the screen and brought the first aid pack downstairs and set to work bandaging people's injuries. She hastily put her hair back in an elastic tie to keep it from falling into her field of view while she was dressing wounds. From the looks of things, Sarif Industries had gotten off relatively easy – she could not see anyone seriously injured. They probably owed their luck to the rioters, whose violence discouraged many people from showing up to work. Not to mention that with how busy everyone was, a lot of people who might have otherwise gotten the upgrade probably forewent it.

The glass doors into the lobby from outside had sustained a lot of damage. Several people had bashed their skulls against the glass with enough force to create some cracks, but not before giving themselves incapacitating head trauma. Luckily, the doors had held and the throngs of people outside had not managed to flood into the building.

"Freya," a familiar voice spoke behind her.

Freya immediately turned around and jumped to her feet. Jensen approached her quickly and brought her into his arms, holding her tightly. She buried her face in his shoulder and felt his artificial hand clenching her hair tightly. Sharp points of pain emerged along her body from his grip, especially her ribs, but she didn't care. The swell of joy in her chest was overwhelming.

"Finally I can stop worrying about you," she commed him.

"I'm sure I can still find ways," he replied, chuckling.

He gradually loosened his grip on her and she drew back, her eyes looking behind him as dozens of people began filing in from the helipad out back.

"You did great, Freya. If you hadn't gotten those VTOLs mobilized, a lot of people might not have survived. And I'm sure David will be happy to have the good press that Sarif Industries was one of the first to respond to the crisis. He'll be needing all he can get, after this."

"Thanks, Adam, how…" she started to ask him something, but caught a glimpse of the scientists leaving the cafeteria, including Dr. Reed. She was walking with David Sarif, apparently deep in conversation, but Freya did catch her eyes pausing for a moment on her and Jensen.

"You aren't hurt, right? Not even a scratch when all hell broke loose?" asked Jensen, his eyes lingering on the blood stains on her clothing and hands.

"I'm fine. What happened with Dr. Reed and the others? Are they all okay?" asked Freya.

"I don't suppose you were in on my feed when I found her?" he asked.

"No, I was trying to track what was happening at Panchaea, and then the signal…"

"I don't want to talk about it yet. Another time, days from now. Suffice it to say that if she continues to be employed by Sarif industries, I don't think I'll be able to stay," he said coldly.

Freya nodded. "Adam, there's something else I have to show you," she said, curling her hands around the bare muscle bundles of his upper arm and leading him up the stairs. As they rounded the steps, she pulled him into the Tech Lab and directed him to the television. Eliza was on repeat, giving the same message on a loop. The message that blamed Darrow, Tai Yong Medical, and Zhao for the entire debacle.

"That's not the message I told Eliza to release," said Jenson, frowning.

"I think it's the Illuminati. They must have intercepted the message and are using Zhao as a scapegoat."

"It's certainly convenient, and ties up loose ends…" he growled.

They both paused as a message from Sarif came simultaneously over their comms.

"Guys, meeting, ASAP in my office."

Jensen and Freya nodded and headed up in the elevators. As they looked out at the city, they saw far more plumes of smoke and flashing police lights than were caused in the riots. _At least it's passed, for now._ Jensen put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly and held her close against him. The doors slid open and they proceeded forward. Athene Marghoulis was sitting at her desk, attempting to look composed despite the bruises and cuts on her face and arms. Clearly she had suffered from Darrow's signal, but she must have been contained up on his penthouse floor where she didn't pose a threat to anyone except herself. As they approached, she turned her head a little away from them to keep her more prominent injuries out of view, and waved them through.

Standing around Sarif's desk were Malik, Megan, and the other three scientists Koss, Colvin, and Faherty. Pritchard and Jensen joined the semicircle and Sarif turned first to Jensen.

"I'm disappointed, Adam. I really thought you'd go with my Humanity Front idea. This way…is so much messier. However, I think spinning it so Zhao takes the blame will work out in our favor – it'll cripple her company, and perhaps they'll focus on the lax regulations in China and not how we do things here in the US," he started.

Sarif turned to Freya, "And Pritchard, well done with the emergency response. Eliza's already talking about it. If there was anything any of us could have done to make us look good after this disaster, that was it."

She smiled at the praise, which she rarely heard from Sarif. Finally he turned to Dr. Reed, "Now Megan, it's great to have you back, and we'll debrief in private about what happened over the last 6 months, but I think we can all agree that you will want to stay out of the media spotlight. They're focusing on Zhao right now but she's dead. Soon people are going to want a flesh and blood person to blame and they're going to be looking at you and Darrow."

"What do you suggest, David? That I go hide in a hole somewhere?" she asked, upset. "I've been confined for the last 6 months, suffering all by myself!"

Jensen shot her an angry look and clenched his fists, having to consciously suppress his anger. He could still picture how she looked when he first walked into her 'confinement.'

"Well, Megan, I don't know if you remember meeting my associate Bob Page, of Page Industries? He was at the last International Biogenetics conference in Sydney. You were at that, right? He's been watching your career very closely and has told me numerous times that he wants you on his team, if I could ever afford to lend you to him."

"I remember him. He certainly has a lot of resources and connections. But…David, are you firing me?" she asked.

"No, Megan, of course not! After all, you developed the bio chip software while employed by Sarif Industries, so that's our intellectual property. I thought, and I'm just throwing it out there, you don't need to say yes now, that perhaps you could remain employed by us but work for Page as a contractor. You could go to one of his facilities that's more out of the way and just lie low."

"I'll need to think about it. Send me Page's information and after I talk to him, I'll let you know …" she said softly, but obviously intrigued.

After a lengthy discussion about how best to proceed, and the best story for everyone to have prepared when confronted by reporters, Sarif dismissed everyone except Megan. The rest of them returned to their usually assigned tasks, hoping it would inject a bit of normalcy after what had happened. Pritchard spent the rest of the day repairing computers and electronic gear that had been damaged during the confusion. Jensen meanwhile was coordinating a building sweep to identify individuals who were trapped or injured, and otherwise unable to obtain help.

By the end of the day, there was an eerie state of calm throughout the city. Everyone was so shaken by the events, and absorbing the information from Eliza, that they avoided others and didn't start any petty fights. Like in nearly all indiscriminate attacks on a people, many were banding together to support one another. After all, nearly everyone had a friend or family member who was affected by the attack. Among those without augments, there was a newfound sense of empathy for augmented people to go along with their previous fear; and those with augments were struggling with feelings of vulnerability that came with augmentation.

When evening came around, Freya was resting her head on her desk, exhausted. Robotically, she stood, grabbed her Sarif messenger bag, and locked up the Tech Lab. The apartments weren't too far if she used the main streets, so she elected to walk home. Malik's "shuttle service" was closed for the evening, anyway. She'd been flying for almost 24hours straight and was in no shape to do anything but sleep. As Pritchard headed down the streets, there were still traces of violence on every corner. Papers here and there with blood smears would flap by in the wind. Several crashed cars were left in the streets, no one coming to claim them. In the gutter, outside Chiron, Freya even spied a severed mechanical thumb – silver and sparking with residual battery life, wires sticking out of the base where it was forcibly removed from some unfortunate person's hand.

On her way inside, she stopped at the front desk and saw their stern faced manager Sherri Horst talking with someone on the phone. Sherri was staunchly anti-augmentation and as such tended to treat all the Sarif employees who lived there as second class citizens. Pritchard was tempted to stop and ask her about Jensen's replacement mirror, but figured it would be a waste of time. It was unlikely she'd respond any better to her than she did to Jensen.

When Freya stepped into the apartment, she hung up her jacket and set her bag in the kitchen as was her routine. Having been up and about on her feet all day, she headed for her brown leather armchair in the far right corner of the room. On her way she stepped over the numerous cables and cords still strewn about the floor, lazily attempting to nudge a few of the more prominent loops aside. No sooner had she sat down, than she heard three firm knocks at the door. Sighing, she pushed herself up with her arms and went to answer it.

Upon opening the door, she found herself facing Adam, his shades retracted and his intense brown eyes quickly finding hers. She should have known it would be him, but Freya was still struck speechless by his presence outside her apartment. Without a word, Adam tilted her chin towards him with his left hand and brought her lips to his. The suddenness took her breath away and she felt a brief sense of panic, but found herself already melting in his arms. All her fears and worries when he was off on missions were finally finding their release. Lips still locked on hers, he pushed her back into the apartment, closing the door behind him. She was still trying to catch her breath and when she let out a gasp, she felt his tongue tease past her lips.

She brought her hands up along his chest until they were securely wrapped around his neck, steadying herself. Feeling up along his jawline, she ran her fingers through his soft brown hair, twisting gently. His hands dropped around her and pressed against her back, holding her firmly against his body. One of his hands found its way beneath her shirt and caressed along the bare skin of her waist, making her tremble in pleasure deep to her core. As he pushed her back further into the room, her right foot got tangled in a loop of power cord and she felt herself get pulled down, bringing him unexpectedly forward onto the ground. With lightning reflexes, Adam held the two of them just above the floor when they fell, supporting her lower back so she floated just an inch above the carpet.

The fall made him pause only briefly, his eyes finding hers to look for any sign that she wanted him to stop. When he found nothing but her deep blue eyes gazing longingly up at him, he kissed her again, more tenderly this time. He gently edged her turtleneck higher, bringing it above her shoulders and tossing it aside. Carefully he explored her body with his hands, sensitive for any reaction against the pressure his prosthetics exerted on her soft flesh. As he trailed kisses along her collar and removed her bra, she pulled his shirt over his head and traced the angular line along his shoulders where the polymers met his skin. He was so warm she felt it emanating from every part of him – his chest, his arms, his neck. She easily slipped her loose cargo pants off and slid her naked thigh sensually along his torso, wanting to feel as much of his skin on hers as possible. As her need for him reached dizzying heights, she spread her legs invitingly, wishing he would close the distance. His fingers trailed along her belly, sending shivers deep into her pelvis, and slipped beneath her underwear to find her waiting opening. She jerked involuntarily and tightened her legs when she felt his fingers enter, warm and smooth.

"Adam," she gasped breathlessly.

"Shh, relax," he told her, his eyes meeting hers briefly, as if to say, _trust me._

She nodded and focused on relaxing her hips again so he could move in deeper. As he stimulated her, it sent tantalizing waves of enjoyment through her whole body in ways she never knew. As he hit particularly pleasurable places she uttered short, involuntary cries, muffled by his lips. She happily surrendered herself to the sensations he was giving her, relishing his tongue in her mouth at the same time.

Her hand reached up to his buckle and started loosening it, struggling a little until he brought his other hand over to help. When his pants came down, undergarment and all, she could just barely see the delineation between his augmentation and the natural portions of his muscular mid-thigh. She traced her hand down to his groin to find him, relieved to feel that confirmation that he wanted her. As she caressed him, she felt him jerk slightly and catch his breath, clearly affected by her touch. She eased off slightly and he gripped the sides of her panties, pausing for a moment to see how long he could resist before finally sliding them off, leaving nothing to separate them.

In anticipation, she brought her arms around him behind him and held onto his shoulders as he lowered his hips to meet her. As he entered, she let out a soft moan and he caressed her face, kissing her sweetly, reassuringly. Whatever reservations she may have had, she couldn't help but give in to wanton desire and welcome him completely into her. When he was in all the way, she took a deep breath as he started to move, pleasure shooting through her body. She brought her hands up from his shoulders and gripped his strong, powerful upper arms along his biceps for support. His smell, his surprising gentleness, the feel of his body was saturating her senses. As she grew closer to orgasm and gripped him more tightly with her hands, he sped up the pace, bringing them to a simultaneous rush of ecstasy.

As her head swam in the aftermath, still holding his body against hers, she wondered for a fleeting moment whether his augments had helped him time his moves so perfectly. If that were the case she certainly wasn't about to complain. They rested there, still breathing hard, and he planted a long, final kiss on her lips. He smiled and gazed long into her. For the first time, she did not see a trace of pent up anger or regret in those eyes.

"Was that okay?" he asked softly.

She couldn't help but laugh nervously, still getting rid of pent up butterflies. "That was more than okay, Adam," she answered.

He kissed her again gently and pulled away, grabbing her clothing from around them and handing them to her as she went to clean up. Adam pulled his pants on and sat in the arm chair that Freya had been sitting in moments before he arrived. Her windows were half open, letting only a slight amount of light in to blend with the blue glow of several computer screens that she left perpetually on compiling data. The skyscrapers were still the same, with the same flashing electronic billboards, but somehow it felt different tonight. He smiled contentedly and watched her walk towards him from her bedroom.

"That's _my_ chair, you know. I was sitting there before you so rudely interrupted my evening," she teased.

He quickly pulled her into his lap, her legs hanging over one of the arms of the chair. "Well, you clearly need a few more chairs. This is the only one I see in here."

"Oh, I have more," she said defensively, "they're just…buried at the moment."

He chuckled and sighed happily, watching her facial expressions. For months after the accident he never thought he could have this kind of happiness again. Yet here it was, sitting in front of him. For once he didn't feel like a victim of circumstance, of cruel fate's hand giving him a life he didn't ask for. He wasn't angry at the world for robbing him of the life he used to have. After months of misery he was finally moving forward instead of dwelling on the past.

"So, this is really happening, then?" she asked nervously, referring to the two of them.

"Sure, but we have to make it official," he said, putting on a serious face. She looked puzzled for a moment and he continued, "There's a great noodle place that is open really late. I haven't been there in ages, but I'm sure it'll be open even today – the guy who owns it is a stubborn Japanese man who never closes shop, rain or shine."

"That sounds fun," she grinned excitedly, "so it's a date?"

"It's a date," he confirmed, kissing her nose softly.

- The End -

Thank you all for reading, especially those of you who powered through all 12 chapters! I hope it was an enjoyable ride. Feel free to read the next installment -


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